Syllogisms
by emily.down
Summary: Loki is left in her company, to his great misery.
1. Chapter 1

-1-

"What kind of name is Darcy anyway?" he asked, shifting his legs forward.

She would have wanted to answer back with "What kind of name is _Loki_?", but she knew he would have a smart reply about deity and mythology and she wasn't up for another debate.

They were standing in one of the many observation rooms, every item in it as impersonal and cold as the god himself. She had to suppress some comments.

"It's sort of French," she mumbled eventually.

"French? Didn't you say you were American?"

"Our names can have different origins," she argued.

"And your parents picked French? Why?"

Darcy was a bit confused. Why would anyone be so interested in this name? What was it with him and questions anyway?

"It's not very common and it sounds elevated. I think that's why they chose it," she answered.

Loki raised an eyebrow, looking her up and down.

"And you are uncommon? And elevated?"

Darcy smiled in acquiescence. He had a point.

"I guess I didn't turn out that way, after all."

"Your parents hoped you would, then," he offered.

"Can we stop talking about my name?" she asked, looking down.

"Why? Does it shame you? Does it remind you of your shortcomings?"

His smooth, cruel voice made it sound a lot worse in her mind, even though he probably meant nothing by it. She made an indecipherable face.

"I don't think about it," she answered. "It's just my name."

"So...you don't think about yourself? About who you are?"

"Enough with the questions!" she suddenly burst out. "God, why are you so curious?"

"You don't have to call me that every time we speak," he said, smirking.

"Call you what - ?"

"God."

"That's not what I – I didn't mean you."

"Then you inferred another God? Who is he?"

"Someone infinitely more pleasant than you," she muttered more to herself.

"I guess I could believe that," he said, his voice growing stern.

Darcy turned back to her laptop. She was watching him though, from the corner of her eye.

He sat back against the wall and sighed in boredom.

"When does your mistress come back?"

"My mis - you probably mean Jane. And she's _not_ my mistress. She's my friend. There's a difference."

"She seemed to be ordering you around. Not to mention she is your superior."

Darcy blushed furiously.

"She wasn't ordering me around! I'm an intern and I have some duties around here but it doesn't mean I'm working for her exclusively," she said rolling her eyes.

"But you admit you are her inferior?" Loki asked, his eyes dancing.

"What? _Intellectually_?" she said, as if the word was tedious to her.

"And socially most likely, but yes," he nodded.

"We work in different fields, so you can't exactly compare us."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I'm a student. Majoring in Political Science, but I was interested in her work," she said. It wasn't a complete lie. It certainly wasn't anymore anyways.

"So, it means you are still learning. Am I correct?"

"I suppose, yes."

"So, you _are_ Jane's inferior," he concluded.

"Just because I haven't reached her level of knowledge doesn't mean I'm _inferior_," she retorted.

"Isn't that the definition of the term?"

"In your messed up head, maybe. But I don't like that word. No one does."

"Well, of course, no one likes it when it is applied to them," he reasoned.

"I'd still be pissed off if you called someone else inferior."

"No, you wouldn't."

"Yes, I would. It's just not _your_ call."

"Not my _call_?"

"I mean you don't know people well enough, you don't even know _me_ so you have no right to draw conclusions like that."

"Don't I have the right to an opinion?" he asked innocently.

"When it's not stupid, sure," she said boldly.

"Now who is being unfair? Why would you say my opinion is _stupid_?" he asked, feeling offended.

"If I have to explain it to you, what's the point?" she said, shutting her laptop.

"Is this your way of holding an argument?" he asked, scandalized.

"No. It's my way of saying I don't have time for this."

Loki knew she wasn't going to give in soon, so it would be best to ignore her nonsense. She would prattle on endlessly, otherwise.

"You still haven't answered my question. When does...Jane come back?"

Darcy sighed and pulled her bag from the floor.

"Not for a while."

"Not for a while? What does that mean?"

"It means she doesn't feel like seeing you right now."

"She could at least endeavour to speak to me."

"Problem is, you tried to kill us, several times. And you pissed her off when you went for Thor. They're sort of together, if you hadn't noticed."

"I had," he said, almost as if it disgusted him.

"The reasons for my actions are unknown to her," he suddenly said.

"She doesn't have to –"

"Didn't you say we shouldn't draw conclusions without knowing?" he countered, repeating her words.

Darcy was caught off guard. She did not know how to reply to that. A loophole in logic.

"Yeah... I did say that," she admitted. 'But this is a bit different.'

"Why? Because you _know_ me? Because you know Thor?" he asked, frustration rising in him.

Darcy was going to get up, but she sat down again, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

"You can't expect people to ignore what you did. You almost destroyed a town. And you were gonna kill off some poor giants just out of spite. Jane told me."

Loki sighed in annoyance.

"If you knew them, you wouldn't say they are so poor. And you wouldn't be so hasty to discredit me. I may have been blinded by power, but I am not one to wreak havoc senselessly."

Darcy snorted.

"But that's kind of who you are, isn't it? God of mischief. Yeah, I'd say you _do_ wreak havoc senselessly."

Loki looked away.

"I should then surmise Jane is not going to see me."

"Nope. Not very soon."

"So, you mortals are just going to keep me here until my magic dies out completely?"

Darcy rolled her eyes.

"Stop being such a drama queen."

He frowned confused.

"We are...observing you," she added, as an explanation.

"You have nothing to gain from me."

"Why don't you let us decide that?"

"There's no point in keeping me here, like a piece of furniture. Just let me go."

'Are you kidding me? Letting you run free is like letting Hannibal Lecter take a cooking class.'

Loki chose to ignore the gibberish.

"I am no threat. Not in this state," he said bitterly.

"Exactly. You're no threat _now_. But you will be," she replied.

"Am I to understand you will keep me here indefinitely? Isolated from everyone?"

Darcy sighed, running a hand through her tangled hair.

"I _wish_. But, they've made _me_ do it."

Loki seemed a bit confused.

"Made you do what?"

"Check on you."

"You?" he asked bewildered. "You're just a child."

"Subtle," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"They are just going to let someone like you handle me?" he asked, mystified by the complete lack of sense.

"Geez, compliment me some more, why don't you? I'm just your outside, human contact. I'm not going to "handle you". There are specialists for that."

Loki gave her a miserable look.

"So, you are here to keep me _entertained_ then?" he asked bitterly.

"You've got some nerve, you know that?" she said, glaring at him.

"What did I say?"

"What haven't you said?" she asked.

He glared back. She had a strange, irritating way with words.

"I prefer complete solitude," he spoke, after a while. "At least I would be alone with my thoughts."

"Really? Is that what you want? Because if I get it in writing they might give me something else to do," she drawled, rolling her eyes.

"You are very insolent for your age."

"I'm twenty-one, FYI," she retorted.

"Twenty-one?" he snorted, chuckling. "That's barely being alive."

Darcy shook her head. "You'll find I'm just as alive as you are."

"Don't insult me with mortal adjectives," Loki replied, his tone flat and careless. "I'm not alive. Living implies dying. I am immortal."

"Hey, twenty-one feels immortal to me too right now," she countered.

"You can't even compare to me – " he began.

"Yeah, well, I already did, so maybe immortality is overrated," she said.

Loki shook his head annoyed.

"You don't even know what you are talking about."

"Guess what? You don't either. You're on Earth now. Time to rethink some things."

With that, she finally got up, pulled her bag over her shoulder and her laptop under her arm and walked out of the observation room.

Loki looked at the door as it closed shut. He blinked, trying to make sense of what just happened.

Her last words had left a small indentation in his thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

-2-

"Are there going to be any more _experiments_?" was the first thing Loki asked her the minute she stepped into the room. His voice was snappy and dry, chopping through the silence with precision. He must have been alone for some time.

Darcy let out a breath as she hauled her bag on the table. She had had to run all the way here this morning because she had overslept.

He was standing on the edge of his bed, his sleeves rolled up, staring at his arms in great concentration.

At first she just stood there, waiting for another question, but when she saw he was not moving, she approached him quietly and stared down at his arms.

His skin was punctured in several places. The marks were bright red and slightly swollen.

"Ouch," she said, sympathizing. "Sorry about that."

"Sorry? Is that what your mortals do? Stick needles into people and then say sorry?"

Darcy shrugged her shoulders.

"Hey, if it were up to me, injections would be illegal, but until they find a less painful way to..."

"What were they doing to me?" he interrupted her impatiently.

"They were...they were sort of treating you. It's medicine," she explained. It wasn't a total lie.

"Medicine? Do you think I have lost my ability to think?"

"They didn't draw any blood, did they?" she asked instead.

"They certainly _tried_, but they couldn't, I'm not human," he spat.

"Right," she confirmed, nodding her head.

"Well, don't you think they would study a living form which is not human?" she followed logically. "That's what they're doing obviously."

Loki looked at her for the first time. His eyes held a strange passive intensity, as if he was tired of his own malice.

"I assure you, no Asgardian would treat a mortal this way, no matter how beneath them," he replied.

"You're right. Our cell rooms would probably look worse," she said, gesturing around the room.

Loki's nostrils flared in anger.

"Stop taking everything I say and making a frivolous comment about it."

"I wasn't aware I was doing that. If you can't handle someone else's sarcasm, that's your problem."

"Sarcasm? Don't add insult to injury, the art of parley would benefit greatly from your silence," he replied coolly.

"Okay, I admit you do have a smarter way with backhanded insults," she conceded, rolling her eyes. "No need to be a jerk about it, though."

"You don't take anything seriously. I shouldn't have even bothered to ask you anything. Discussing is pointless."

Darcy pursed her lips in silent amusement.

She took one of the chairs, sat down and opened her bag.

"Have you ever thought that maybe _you_ need to do that?" she asked, after she had taken out some items.

Loki leant back against the wall, letting his arms rest on his legs in resignation.

"Of course, the child is preaching to me about common sense..." he muttered.

"That maybe," she continued ignoring him, "_you_ shouldn't take yourself so seriously?"

Loki shot up at her words.

"I shouldn't take myself so seriously? What in Odin's name does that even mean?"

Darcy shrugged her shoulders.

"It's pretty self-explanatory, actually."

"Enlighten me," he drawled.

"Well, you may be Loki in Asgard, but...you are just some lost guy here, on Earth. Your powers are...receding (at this Loki flinched visibly), to the point where you're slowly becoming human. That's one thing. You're also not very popular around here. It's not a big deal, it just means people aren't willing to put up with you. Sure they'll study you till you drop, but they won't actually take the time to listen to your rants. So acting almighty and above-it-all is a bit silly at this point. Maybe you should just accept some facts and find a way to cope with them."

Loki's eyes burned into hers. Her audacity was only slightly lessened by the ridiculous way she employed her words. He tried to focus on what interested him.

"How do you know my powers are receding?"

"Those _experiments_, as you call them, aren't so secretive. Well, not when you're an intern here and can sneak with some coffee and muffins just about anywhere," she explained.

"So...you've been spying on their testing," he concluded dryly.

"I would not phrase it that way, but sure, what do you think I do during my breaks?"

"And you think I am almost human," he continued.

"Physically anyway."

"And mentally?" he challenged.

"I wouldn't even want to go there, since I don't know what goes on in there," she said, pointing at his head.

"But since your body is becoming..._normal_, for lack of a better word, maybe your mind should adjust as well," she continued.

She wondered why she was talking like Jane all of a sudden.

"I know it's tough, but your options are few and far between," she added.

_Well, Jane, you'd be proud of me_, Darcy thought, remembering the scientist had asked her to try and act more mature.

"The options are _few_? There are no options," Loki countered.

"Sure there are. Being cooperative is one of them. It would make their job easier. And mine too, but hey, don't worry about me," she joked, waving her hand.

"What job could you possibly have? You only sit there and talk about irrelevant things."

"You'd be surprised what you get paid for here on Earth," she replied, turning on her laptop.

"Just because my body is...weakening, does not mean my mind should _adjust_," he argued, repeating her words.

"It is crucial that I keep my mind strong," he added.

"I didn't say you should try being a moron, though you _could_ probably pull it off. I only meant you should probably stop torturing yourself uselessly with thoughts of grandeur and power," she replied.

"You think I torture myself?"

"Well, it's not making you any happier."

"You couldn't possibly understand that gods do not chase happiness the way mortals – " he began.

"Fine, fine. It's not bringing you any peace then."

Loki shook his head in irritation.

"Once again, peace is not –"

"You can spew all the bullshit you want, but I can see you, everybody can. You are being watched 24/7. You're pretty miserable. And who wouldn't be? You're trapped in here, with no way to get back home," she said, gesturing around.

Loki looked into her eyes with a hidden curiosity. He was slightly taken aback.

"I get it. I do. Hell, if I got stuck here I'd be going insane and I live half an hour away," she said, shaking her head.

"You pity me," he said in a hollow voice.

Darcy frowned.

"No, I don't think you deserve that, but I understand. It's no astrophysics."

"I don't think you do. You seem to belong to a simpler world," he spoke coldly.

"This _simpler_ world is powerful, though. You're turning human," she countered.

"That is not the cause of my –" he began, but stopped shortly.

Darcy waited for him to go on, but he just looked down at his arms again. He felt an odd tingle across his skin. And a nauseating feeling. A burning in his bones.

Medicine, she had said. They thought he was an idiot.

"Are you okay?"

"Questions like these make me wish I were not," he said, his eyes glued to his skin.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, staring at his arms.

"I would appreciate some silence. If you must stay here," he said more to himself.

Darcy sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly. How she wished she was at home, hugging her pillow.

She waited for a while to see what he would do next, but she was waiting in vain. He remained still.

She took out several heavy-looking textbooks, notebooks and writing utensils. She was going to get started on some due papers that she had been ignoring for a while.

She felt very uncomfortable working not only under the watch of several cameras and monitors, but also in the presence of someone as peculiar and sharp as Loki, but he seemed to be distracted with his own thoughts and she had to get them done.

There was one more Word document which was open almost all the time but which Loki would never know anything about.

Erik had half-ordered, half-advised her to write all observations she assessed on Loki, anything useful she could gather, any bit of valuable information, even to the point of writing down his own words. And she was going to do just that, not only because he was a fascinating specimen, but also because she wanted to keep working there.

Maybe it was a bit unfair to let him believe she was just there as a simple companion, since she was secretly studying him as well, but then again, her petty little notes could not be dignified with the actual term of research and Loki himself would probably realize soon enough she was no real threat, if he hadn't already. There was also the depressing fact that no one would ever take her observations seriously and that, despite what she told herself, the god had a point about her presence being an indirect means of entertainment. It was like going to the zoo and watching a rare, unknown species on display, only in this case, she couldn't decide which was the visitor and which was the attraction.

She was more than certain she found him a lot more interesting than he found her, but you couldn't exactly _not_ be interested in a Norse god fallen on Earth from a mythical kingdom in the skies who could wield magic and had knowledge of so many unknown realms. The big shock had come with Thor. Now she was learning to approach this step by step, without the complete fright and disbelief she had initially felt. She was beginning to learn to treat this new discovery with rationality and calm, although there were many times when she'd wake up in the middle of the night and just start laughing hysterically or she'd just burst into tears during classes for no reason.

It was new and hard on everyone, but she knew she was taking it a lot better than most.

It was a lot easier with Loki, though, because she could somehow control her curiosity and fear. He was the common enemy. He was the reason for everyone's frustrations and anger. It was easy to latch on to this significant detail and somehow diminish his power or importance, rendering him a lot weaker in her eyes. It is true, in the very short time they had spent together so far, she had constantly felt the urge to treat him like a normal human being just to make things easier.

She snuck a glance at him while she was taking down notes.

He had lied down again, staring at the ceiling, ignoring the fact that she had suddenly started working.

She would have wanted to tell him what she was working on, but decided revealing more useless information about herself and her boring tasks would not in any way help him.

Seeing as he was immersed in his own thoughts, she took out her headphones and plugged them to the laptop, but kept the volume low, so she would not be surprised if he chose to speak.

Loki could hear the sound of her typing away. Once or twice he almost opened his mouth to ask what she was doing, but he decided against it.

She would probably give him some incoherent explanation he would not fully understand and he knew human technology couldn't be more fascinating than the workings of gods.

When she covered her ears with those giant round black pads, he looked up briefly and wondered how anyone could sit there with those things on their head without getting a headache. He assumed they isolated sound, but soon enough, he heard the whisper of a strange melody coming from them. She was listening to something while she appeared to be working.

How incredibly daft.

He stole one more glance to get the full image.

She looked so odd.

He had seen many women, mortal or godly, in his lifetime, but she was different and not in a good way.

Women were beautiful, he believed, when they revealed what was intrinsically feminine; their delicate, round figures, their soft arches, their gentle expressions, their rosy cheeks, their firm, slender movements.

The goddesses he had had the pleasure to have as companions were all mesmerising, alluring, and yet powerful and wise creatures, silent and elegant warriors who governed with passion and feeling.

Thought and emotion consumed them with such beauty that it was a real wonder to watch them in their full glory.

Mortal women, though inferior in mind and feeling, could be equally charming.

Jane herself had seemed strangely alluring. Her beauty was something simple, but inviting. He could not feel his brother's passion for her, but he could understand, as an aesthetic observer, why he would find her suitable.

However, this...girl, this Darcy, her name so impersonal and unfamiliar, was very bland.

For one thing, her strange garments made her look puerile and silly, hiding any sort of shape or curve she might possess. She had her hair up in a messy bun which pulled up her forehead clumsily and made her head look like a wild forest. Her countenance held no mystery, no experience and no warmth to the point where she looked infantile. The strands which had escaped her bun fell down her t-shirt like tired ropes. She had black circles under her eyes from sleep-deprivation, but he couldn't even really see her eyes properly. They were hidden behind those things he knew were spectacles. He guessed there wasn't much to see. They looked lacklustre and grey.

Her posture was another thing. She sat slouched in her chair, almost as if she was about to fall over and one foot was angled over her leg so that the sole of her shoe was quite visible.

He wrinkled his nose.

He couldn't have imagined a more accurate caricature. But here she was.

His thoughts travelled further away from her and the confinement of the observation room as they wandered higher towards Asgard and what would await him beyond, if ever really turned mortal.

It paralyzed him, the simple thought of humanity. It made him even more human, just thinking about it.

Time passed fleetingly. He felt it had been hours.

When Darcy looked at the clock on her laptop she realized that almost an hour had passed.

She sat back and stretched her arms into the air, feeling like every muscle in her body was creaking like old furniture. She arched her spine until it popped and then sat up straight.

She put down her headphones and massaged her temples.

The sounds seemed to distract Loki, but he did not speak.

"Have you been sleeping?" she asked casually.

"You saw me. I was awake."

"Your mind was elsewhere. I thought that's how you sleep," she said.

Loki raised an eyebrow.

"The first interesting thing you've ever said."

"Don't worry, someday I'll get to say that about you too," she bit back, staring at the screen.

Loki shook his head.

"You can't forever disarm me with – "

"Why haven't you rolled down your sleeves yet?" she asked, staring at his bare arms.

He looked down in wonder.

"Oh."

He had forgotten. He hadn't wished to hide the bruises, but now it seemed irrelevant.

The punctures wouldn't go away very soon. It wasn't about the pain though, which was small and almost imperceptible to someone like him. It was about being branded. Being used as a disposable experiment, as their pet.

How low he had fallen. How low he felt.

He pulled them back up and resumed his staring, despite the layer of clothing.

"You can't imagine what it's like," he began suddenly, without warning, "being trapped here, feeling my powers dying slowly inside of me."

Darcy almost jumped out of her seat. She felt like an invisible force had shaken her violently.

Loki realized he had said that aloud, but he was beginning to grow restless with her in the room, even if they had just spent an hour in complete silence.

"You're right," she said at length.

He looked up sharply.

"I can't imagine."

Loki thought she would add something along the lines "but I am trying to understand". Humans loved to play with that word until it lost all meaning. To them, it was the essence of comfort. Surely, we can't do anything, we can't prevent anything, but we _understand_.

She remained perfectly quiet however, watching him, without any intention to speak.

Loki grimaced and settled his eyes on something other than her inquisitive face. He noticed her headphones.

"Was that music?" he asked quietly.

Darcy noticed his stare. She almost smiled, almost. Her hands travelled slowly to her headphones.

"Yep."

"Isn't it distracting?" he asked absently.

"No. Unless you let it be," she answered simply.

"Continuous buzzing in my ears..." he muttered to himself. "I suppose music is preferable to a noise."

Darcy hadn't heard him very well, but she caught the last part.

"Want to listen?" she said, holding the headphones.

He almost chuckled.

"No."

"I thought so."

Loki's eyes traced the shadow she made on the white floor.

"Is it time for you to go yet?" he asked in what she could guess was a tired voice.

"Sick of me already?" she asked, smirking.

"As if you cannot answer that yourself."

"What can I say? You put the "harm" in charming," she joked, stretching again. "I think there's still about ten minutes left."

_Harm...charming...harm...char...oh_, Loki thought feeling stupid. He wasn't used to people chopping up words like they were mere play things. He resented the fact that she was his outside contact and yet the best she could do was teach him puns.

He settled on his back again.

"I might go to sleep this time," he lied, "so you may leave without announcing it."

"Don't worry, I'll leave you a note on your forehead," she muttered, shoving the textbooks and notebooks back in her bag.

Loki shut his eyes. An amused smile struggled to move his lips.


	3. Chapter 3

_Um yes, this is a new update, after such a long pause, and it's actually quite a lengthy chapter, but in my defense, I have so many other stories to work on as well that it gets hard. Not that I don't think this story is worth the extra work, but I have other projects as well. Anyways, I finally managed to finish the chapter I had been working on for a couple of days. I hope you enjoy it._

_I can only say I was surprised and touched by all the lovely reviews, thank you so much for being so kind :)_

_**TwigTalent**: thank you, I feel humbled :)_

_**TheInvincibleKay:** thanks a lot :)  
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_**Jewel Song**: thank you, so glad I managed to capture Loki, he's one tough cookie and it only gets tougher, I'm updating now so there :)_

_**chatnoir1**: aww thanks for recapping their banter, happy you liked it :)_

_**Shawnemelissa**: thank you, I'm flattered you like the style, I try:) And yes, I hope I get to finish this story too, I have pretty big plans for it, though it will be a bit difficult accomplishing them._

_**Chick With Brains**: thanks, I love it too :)_

_**Teres**: happy you found yourself giggling, that was one of the intended effects and also glad you find them in character, I agree it's hard to achieve that mostly because we have little to go on, but not little enough to go off on your own :)  
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_**Maeven** **Greystone**: thanks so much, writing about them is fascinating indeed, and it draws me in as much as it draws the readers :)_

_**CrosslitHeavens**: thank you, I know description is lacking but I am focusing more on them as characters, so I have mostly 'character description' if that makes any sense.:)_

_Okay time for some warnings: this chapter is a bit on the overly thought-out side, which means you might find yourself wondering where this is all going. I hope it doesn't get too head is still spinning, though.  
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_Please tell me what you think!  
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><p>-3-<p>

"Well? Isn't this so much better?" Darcy asked, glowing with pride, as she waved her hands about the room.

Her heart was in her throat. He must have noticed, he must have.

And she had never been more curious to see his reaction. She did not expect much, but she did expect something worthwhile. Darcy didn't want any gratitude, because she was sure he could not give it, but she wanted to witness an emotion; she took a perverse pleasure in knowing he was struggling with an overbearing humanity that was threatening to encompass him fully with each passing second and despite her better feelings, she relished in observing the slow process, as horrible as that might sound, because, sympathies aside, she had never been part of anything quite so exhilarating and profoundly disturbing.

Loki didn't even bother to reply, he only stared at her as if this was one of her usual fits. He hadn't grown accustomed to her yet, but he had somehow come to the conclusion that she was unstable (judging from their two previous meetings), and that he should know what to expect, even after so little time.

"Come on, don't tell me you didn't even notice!" she exclaimed astonished, dreading for a moment that he might actually be oblivious after all.

He shrugged his shoulders in boredom. He had no intention of playing along only to discover she was once again in the middle of making some absurd joke.

"Jeez, I thought you would, since you've been living here for a while," she said, dumping her messenger bag on the table in obvious disappointment. Her proud bubble had deflated in mere seconds.

"Either tell me what it is you are talking about or keep quiet," he said, wrinkling his brow in irritation. Needless to say, he had not slept well, or if he had, he had barely rested. His senses were both expanding and shrinking at an alarming speed, making him feel human in the most dehumanizing way possible. He felt cold, but the kind of normal, startlingly warm cold that people felt standing in the middle of rain, not the usual comforting, glacial cocoon of impenetrability he was used to.

"I'm still waiting for you to figure it out, since it's actually visible," she drawled annoyed, unzipping her laptop bag.

"Then keep waiting, I don't feel the need to oblige your nonsense," he commented.

"Well, someone's a bit grouchier than usual. Don't worry, you'll feel so bad when you realize I actually helped you," she said, chuckling.

"What could you have possibly done to aid me?" he scoffed.

Darcy shrugged her shoulders and sat down, folding her jacket next to her laptop in a small square.

"Something you should be able to tell."

Loki rolled his eyes in distaste. "Kindly get on with what you call 'work' and stop bothering people.'

'I can't believe you referred to yourself as 'people'. And if my work is such a joke to you, then _you_ should try doing it. I bet all your godly skills and intelligence couldn't prepare you for a piece on Frederick Douglass," she retaliated.

Loki raised his eyebrow, looking very unconvinced.

"Well, scratch that, your intelligence _would_ help – "

"Not to mention my omniscient powers which can easily select the necessary information from the universal conscience that is also integrated in my conscience," he finished for her nonchalantly.

Darcy took in a deep breath. It was always easier to deny the fact the he was from a different world, of different, altogether terrifying origins. It was much better to think of him as an alien, in the light and appealing sense of the word. Reality only fed her comforting illusion, as the Loki sitting in front of her was hardly the shadow of the god of mischief he had been and, therefore, rendering him in a more accessible angle came almost naturally. This was a double-edged sword, however. It was getting harder now to consider him the common enemy since he couldn't exactly act in that position, much less pose as a threat. The accessibility thus made sure to heighten the feeling of panic that she had nothing to latch onto to subdue the blow.

And she thought her first shock had been hard.

Her first contact with a god, Thor himself, had been a revelation of power and force, of the unmitigated impulses driving a harmonious creature inside and a ferocious beast on the outside, the two finding a connection between each other in the nobility of his spirit, a nobility which stripped any bestiality or ferocity, into mere destructive and creative forces acting like one. In other words, he had fulfilled and perfected the image of a god in her mind, the kind of god that still bowed down to the "real" creator of the universe.

But this was a lot more incongruous. This was hardly believable, despite everything she had witnessed before. The gods of her imagination were ingrained with an instinctive wisdom, the kind that guided them through the larger spaces, inconceivable by man, but this wisdom was more like a sweeping current, a titanic wave that stirred more than influenced, that was aware more than _self_-aware.

Loki possessed no such thing and was nothing like this. He was self-aware without the actual awareness. He had a self-sufficiency that was both pathetic and powerful, because his statements were not just blind megalomania; he was born and bred into this thinking, with the necessary courage (very different from Thor's) to rise to the challenge and sometimes even succeed. He mastered magic not because he could, but because it was his undeniable right. He created chaos because he had never been touched by its moral or emotional consequences, but knew that men were, and this was his only battle against the enigma of the human being.

He was a different species altogether and the paradox was that, despite the fact that she could hardly perceive him as a god, he was the most detached and superfluous being she had met, as if his place in the general order was an accident, but at the same time, he seemed vital and supreme to any other of his kind because he was becoming human himself, bridging the gap of understanding.

"Yes, did I mention that's mighty impressive? But I have that too, it's called the internet," she quipped dismissively, trying to hold his gaze.

"Does the internet also interpret the information and translate it into a manipulated code of choice?" he spat.

Darcy was not quite sure what he meant by manipulated code but it was probably something confusing. Or just fancy words for 'I can use knowledge any way I want'.

"Not exactly, but..." she started, staring at the screen.

"I thought so."

"... that's _my_ job, not the computer's," she continued.

"All I am saying is I could most likely have both the machine's and your human capacity."

"Don't feel too satisfied with yourself, I bet you'd still find college tedious," she bit back.

"A place for learning and understanding? Hardly, that was my home after all."

Darcy paused suddenly, smirking to herself.

"What?"

"I just pictured you living in a dorm. With dorm mates. Priceless," she grinned to herself. "Someone needs to make a movie or a sitcom about that."

"You take excessive pleasure in denigrating me and the art form itself," he replied.

"You know about movies?" she asked surprised.

Loki seemed offended. "I may not have a clear comprehension of your most recent technology but I have a habit of observing the evolution of your culture."

"You mean you see the general picture. So gods really are useful for something. Good to know. What kind of movies do you like anyway?"

Loki shrugged his shoulders.

"My observations are purely theoretical and on a more abstract level, it is not about what I like and dislike. My mind is above those two notions."

Darcy made a face. "Right. But now that you are here with me you can drop the act. We both know gods aren't immune to art."

"I do not see it that way. Our aesthetic senses are objective, despite the fact that aesthetics in general requires an individual notion of sublime. It is a paradox I can't be bothered to explain right now because it would take too long."

"Do you smell that? Someone just turned on the pretentious fumes. You can barely breathe in here," she mocked, mimicking suffocation.

"I rest my case," he replied calmly, although he was doing his best to keep himself from outright glaring.

Darcy was not pleased with his answer.

"Am I to presume you have no favourite movies? Too bad, we might have had a topic."

"Even if I were to discuss cinematography with you, I don't suppose you would be anything but mediocre at it and while I cannot hold that against you, I cannot exactly simulate your brand of ignorance either."

"Well, I don't suppose you would be anything but mediocre at it too since you've been cut off from those high grounds that were so enlightening," she replied acidly.

Loki was taken aback by the sheer malice of her statement. He hadn't noticed he had insulted her before since he didn't make any efforts to ease the blows, unless he had a certain goal or interest in mind and she was one of the few people he had nothing to gain from.

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"You know, I cannot fathom how you even exist, _Darcy_. Here you are, speaking with a god that is accustomed and has even created some of the axioms of your rational world, and, banished as he may be, he still holds a level of superiority that should not be mocked or taken into disdain because it could be valuable to you and your kind, but in your childish pride, you continue to ignore me and treat me like some helpless creature you cannot possibly endure to consider above you. And I know you may take this as an affront, but it is beyond me how you can function normally."

Darcy seemed to be rooted to her spot, unable to move or have a proper reaction to his extensive monologue. She knew that whichever way she took it, he would only have more incentive to criticize her attitude.

For a while now she had thought well of herself and the way she was handling the situation. Well, she had given herself credit on reacting much better than others, of being able to see things clearer, but it had just been her desire to feel _no_ reaction, to see _nothing_ and feel _nothing_.

He didn't know about her doubts, her own self-ministrations, her anxiety whenever she was around him, the talks she used to have with herself each morning in the mirror, telling herself that she was not dreaming, that she was not creating a parallel universe, that she was not breaching a line between what was so well established and...whatever this was.

He couldn't know about her random mental accidents, how she once had a shouting fit in the middle of a family dinner because the thought of him and others like him existing in such perfect logic with the universal laws of nature overpowered her nerves, how she sometimes stopped in the middle of a street and just stared at the people running past her into oblivion in disgust and shame, knowing everything was changed and they barely mattered anymore. She had had five nervous breakdowns, safely hidden in her tiny apartment, away from Jane or Erik's curious glances, from any of her friends and family, just lying in her bed alone, shaking in fear and horror that at one point she would stop seeing the world as it is and just stop caring about existence altogether, disintegrating into a shapeless, weak conscience that can find no sense in herself or anyone else. Losing faith in humanity would become something like a necessity in order to survive the broken balance of a world she had once called unique and singular.

No, he couldn't know about all that and how could she even begin to explain what would probably resemble adolescent tantrums to him?

There was nothing worse than not being able to express how you felt and what you thought and she had always known this was one of those luxuries she would never afford. She seemed direct only in the way she attacked people. Everything else was simple illogical banter she couldn't escape for fear of never being able to express anything.

"Well, I'm gonna be honest here, I'm not very fond of Italian cinematography. Sure, some might say it's the only one worth watching, but it just seems so overly-wrought and stylized, trying so hard to simulate both the tragic and the beautiful in its heroes' fates that it just falls flat to me. The effort is much more visible than the effect. The people, the buildings, the cars, even the lampposts, everything and everyone falls apart and we're supposed to admire the decay, because we're _just_ supposed to. It's a coping mechanism, a way to live with ourselves, how else would we stand it if we did not praise it? No other explanation needed, no argument. Sometimes I can't bring myself to see it, though, much less admire it. Well... I know others think very differently. And I can even understand why I should grow to like it, but I just don't want to."

She stopped and exhaled as she leant against her chair in consternation with herself. Had she really said all that? She had always wanted to say something like that about something she didn't like, she had always wanted to have the chance to be heard on a topic that no one allowed you to discredit. But this was Loki and his mind was above like and dislike, right?

As for him, he was half-glaring, half-staring at her, his eyes constantly shifting between anger and amusement. His amusement was bitter, however. He felt heavy, he felt the decay inside of him and he couldn't fully enjoy her attempt at sounding off her imaginary depth, because that was what she was doing. He could see right through her, right through her petty tries of critical thought and he could see how much it meant for her to express these things in such a way as to bemuse or surprise. She wanted to affect and be affected, wanted people to know she was not quite daft, but not quite spiritual either, that she could spit on something sacred, but not sacred enough so she would feel guilty about it later.

She was so human and reaching so high without even knowing she was lowering herself in his eyes.

But something in her tone, in her voice, made him feel inadequate. No matter how naive she was, there was a small modicum of truth in her desire to be different, to escape his opinion and free herself of superior judgement, to give her statements validity and beauty. And that was another thing; she wanted to show him she could play with words and strike beauty into her sentences without using all her vulgarities. The true intention lay somewhere between shock value and artistic validation. And he suspected she craved the latter more than the first.

It wasn't enough though, it wasn't enough for him to consider her an individual. It wasn't enough to give her any credit. How many others out there struggled senselessly against the tide to make their thoughts not only heard, but also different and somehow original from the rest, even from their own.

She wasn't the first or the last. Another layer of bitterness, because despite the potential of something separate, she was still part of a medley of grotesque figures.

He was about to comment on the ridicule of her insight, when something caught his eye.

She looked different. She appeared softer somehow, her angles blurred into large circles, half-filled by pleasant shadows.

She was just as bland and painfully common as before, but there was a certain warmth around her, not within her, as if she had changed the room, as if the bright lights no longer stung his eyes and the white corners no longer attacked his retinas with their bleak openness. Instead, the walls had become yellow and grey, worn out, compassionate even.

"The lights. The lights are different," he said.

Darcy's eyes shimmered. She couldn't help the small, victorious smile forming on her lips.

"Finally! I was beginning to think you are hopeless," she said, trying hard to sound more cheerful than she actually felt. Inside she was regretting every word.

"I didn't – how didn't I? I cannot understand. How did I not notice the glaring difference?" he chided himself.

"I guess you got so used to this place the way it is that only an outsider would make you see it," she offered patiently.

Loki stared at her with an undecipherable intent in his eyes. He wanted an explanation, but he was dreading her answer. He suspected she still pitied him.

"An outsider you say. Only an outsider would do this. Did you do this then? Is this the great big thing you were bragging about?"

"Hey, you wouldn't be so cynical about it if you knew all the trouble I've gone through to get them to dim the lights. They didn't see the point of doing such a small and insignificant gesture since you're not entirely...well not really human if you know what I mean and they seemed to think you wouldn't need accommodating just yet. They are sick and twisted, I know. But I kept talking and talking and complaining and making demands and you know first-hand how incredibly pleasant that is...and they finally conceded. So yeah, I kind of feel good about myself," she concluded.

"Why did you think I...wanted this?" he asked, his voice unsure for the first time since she had come into the room.

"Well of course you didn't spell it out because you are way too proud to admit discomfort, especially since you're hell bent on staying a god for as long as you can," she joked, "but I kind of noticed your eyes, how they were red all the time, tired and bloodshot and I saw how you flinched sometimes, involuntarily, when you had to look at me, cuz of the lights. And it was hard for you to rest or sleep when the whiteness just seeped into your eyelids and you felt you were being watched all the time. It was probably worse in full darkness. Well, I checked your sleeping activity in the lab reports and I got confirmation on the levels of stress, plus your doctors mentioned something about heightened sensitivity of the optic nerve and...okay, I need a break, I'm babbling."

Loki clenched his fists on the bed. He couldn't stand her eyes right now. The same eyes that had noticed everything. He couldn't see it, couldn't understand it fully.

He could hazard a guess.

Mortal women got attached quickly and pity and sympathy came so easily to them, even immediate affection, that he couldn't completely rule out this possibility. They craved recognition and admiration from the opposite sex and the only way they could acquire it is if they purposely put the men's needs over their own.

But then - she was so brash and spiteful sometimes; she insulted and denigrated him in a way that confirmed that she was scared and upset to be without the upperhand and to have to accept him and what he said without anything more than a witty remark. It was humiliating for her, more so because she couldn't do anything about it, because she couldn't face her insignificance. No human could. She was only left with cold indifference which she threw at him with a helpless desire to overpower him. No one in her position would crave recognition if she felt defeated from the start, because that would just make them feel worthless. Overpowering was not the same as impressing. She wanted victory, not admiration.

Was this then her revenge? Maybe her way of standing up to him, of surprising him, of throwing him off? Gaining ground so she could make her move?

But then she wouldn't resort to something like this. She could actually harm him from the outside instead of helping, because she seemed to have some power to create even worse situations for him if she so wished.

So was this sympathy, after all? The kind of sympathy that was detached from her resentment? A separate entity? She had shown signs of commiseration before. But simple sympathy would not drive a person to make real efforts of any kind. Something else needed to be there. The aforementioned drive.

"You took the time to inspect me and do all of that. Why? I want to confirm my thoughts," he demanded in a high-strung voice.

"It's worth it if I can hold it over your head for eternity, or at least keep bragging about it for the next five days," she commented chuckling.

Loki glared.

"All right, that might be only part of my reason. But everyone feels a sense of satisfaction when they've done something for someone. I guess I wanted you to feel better. It would make me feel better if I made you feel better, so, according to most social theories on the matter, I actually acted very selfishly, in a vital need for recognition, but also necessarily, to ensure the survival of our species. Only you're not my species but you're slowly turning into it so I still get credit."

Loki shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't deny the fact that she had a way with words. And she was generally correct in assuming how the general rule applied.

But he was making his first effort to see her individually, away from the medley. And he was certain the instinct of preserving her kind was not strong enough to warrant this gesture.

"And...?" he asked, waiting for her to add something else.

"And nothing. The first thing means I don't want to feel guilty about you, because my conscience is a bitch, and the second means one of my primal human instincts was acting out, _because_ of the first."

Loki smiled to himself. Of course, he had been correct after all. A human being who controlled instinct with her conscience.

She was, predictably enough, a good person.

He wondered why he hadn't seen it right off the bat, since it was one of her more subtle, but obvious weaknesses that gave reason to all her other absurd and undignified reactions.

He always had a harder time seeing the goodness though. He could not blame himself.

_How perfectly delectable_, he said, smirking to himself. He always enjoyed watching good people give themselves to a cause, _without_ a cause.

"So, are you happy with the change?" Darcy asked, hoping he might relent and reveal a more concrete reaction.

Her voice was so hopeful and curious at the same time that Loki stopped for a moment and his smirk faded.

There was something undeniably beautiful, humble yet beautiful, in such a small gesture that said so much. And her excitement, so visible and vibrant, gave the entire thing a sense of wonder and innocence.

He shook his head in irritation. She was not innocent, but she could emulate it well.

"It is an improvement," he gave in.

"You're welcome," she said, glowering in satisfaction. "Bet you think I am way more intuitive than all those scientists put together."

"I can neither confirm nor deny this statement, but it does say a lot about your kind."

Darcy rolled her eyes. "Backhanded insult I see. But I know you are secretly pleased and grateful. Well, the first is a certainty, the latter is probably wish fulfilment on my part."

Loki couldn't help but smile at her giddiness. She was strangely surreal.

"I would love to hear your teary-eyed 'thank you's and how I'm your best friend in the whole wide world, but I've got a paper that won't write itself and an entire Patti Smith album that won't listen to itself so if you don't mind..." she said, turning back to her screen and her scattered books with the feeling that she had done or said something right after all.

"If you need anything just shout really loud," she teased.

He rolled his eyes. She had to stop trying to be funny.

Darcy put on her headphones and everything was silence.

Loki seated himself in a comfortable position and stared around the room in appreciation.

From time to time, his eyes would travel over her wiry frame and he would smirk. Someday, she would grow insane with all those contradictions inside of her, but for now he had to admit she was better than no one. Much better.


	4. Chapter 4

_Oh, wow, am I a terrible updater (that's a word, right?). I mean it's kind of obscene. I started writing this chapter a month ago and...here we are. I'm really sorry for the delay and I hope this story hasn't been completely forgotten._

_I'd like to thank you all for your wonderful reviews which, as usual, fuel my writing more than anything and give me courage to be as expansive and insane as I usually am with this story._

_ Many hugs for **i'm not ulysses, cloudlake, Jacquesge, Shawnemelissa, misskeith, Anikaachan, ShimmeringWater and scout. **You make my day._

_Now onto the story!_

* * *

><p>-4-<p>

Darcy wasn't quite sure she'd reach her destionation.

She could barely balance her bulging messenger bag over her shoulder and the heavy tray in her hands. There was a large, delicately sculptured oval lid covering its contents which only added more to its weight and made the process of walking normally down the corridor three times more difficult.

She finally reached his room and was allowed in by a personal code she punched into the small text bar on the wall.

She leant her back against the door and pushed it open.

Loki, who had been sitting facing the wall like a sulking child immediately turned.

He knew it was her because he could always hear her footsteps and she had a very particular scent; dank, wet hair.

Loki noticed she was trying not to drop a heavy tray.

He rolled his eyes in distaste, as he usually did when he saw humans trying to surpass their own limits. He wondered again at the people in charge for letting a girl like her carry a thing like that.

He was at her side in a moment and placed his hands over her knuckles as he took the tray from her.

"Hey, hey I can do this by myself. I walked all the way down here, didn't I?" she complained, trying to push him away.

He forcefully yanked it out of her palms.

She stared at him in anger and awe. She had never seen him quite this close, not even during sedation. She never got too close to him, fearing he might still find a way to get into her head, even when he appeared to be unconscious.

He was truly majestic from one angle.

One would definitely look at him and think... god. He had the sculptured, sharp looks, not too refined, not too polished, but graceful enough to suggest a perfect harmony between his features, despite the imperfect outcome. The way he stood his grounds, without any obvious intentions, merely observing, but controlling calmly and passively, it was quite godly, she assumed. It looked like he had never made a single physical effort in his life, that movement had come so easily to him, not because he had Thor's strength, but because he had enough extraneous resources he could control. There was also his bigger-than-life attitude, of course, bordering on insufferable contempt and let us not forget the nefarious and intricate mind behind those passionless eyes, a mind which had a logic entirely of its own, but which could still comprehend human reason and emotion, despite not being able to emulate them. However, she would be treading on unknown grounds if she tried deciphering anything pertaining to his psyche.

There was another angle, of course. A "not so majestic" angle, if you please.

It had grown on him like a shadow in the past few weeks, the _human_ angle. Dark circles under his eyes, fingers trembling ever so slightly, frozen feet, a frail frame, body growing taut from the slightest change of environment, bulging veins clearly shaped out against his chalk-like skin, blue stains at his wrists, a hollow, almost envious look in his eye whenever he felt body warmth coming from another person.

There were more signs of weakness she had not noticed or had not bothered to check with the doctors, but she would be lying if she said she wanted to know the whole of it. She liked living in the dark for now, there was no harm in that, yet.

He had been under observation for the whole of three weeks now during which she had visited him a total amount of six times, although, if she had to be fair, three of those did not count.

After their last meeting, he had been sedated heavily and when he had not, they had found him in a state of deep sleep, although his eyes remained open. He was losing strength quickly and had to rest constantly.

It was for this reason that their last three meetings had just been her keeping a watch on him as he slipped in and out of consciousness. They had spoken little and she had not had the heart to start any conversation with him, seeing as they had advised her to help him rest and that could only be achieved in silence.

It was only later that they told her that one of the reasons he was constantly sleeping, was that he kept rejecting the small, human part of him which was gradually taking over his body. Among many other things, he refused to eat or drink.

They had attempted to feed him intravenously, but since he was still not human yet, they couldn't, for the time being, pump any substances into his blood, or lack thereof. They were confident it would become a possibility soon, but for now, they would have to resort to force-feeding him, which he was having none of. He always made himself vomit everything.

Their last sorry attempt was Darcy, of course.

"If you are done staring at me, maybe we can step away from the door," she mumbled.

"I suppose you have brought human food again. I appreciate the aesthetic improvement, but it will be in vain," he said, looking down at the tray.

The tray had been her idea. They kept bringing his food in sordid containers made of plastic or paper. She had suggested actual crockery and perhaps some quality silverware, believing he would be more inclined to look at his food, at least, if it was served properly.

"This rusty old thing? Just a new case for my laptop," she teased.

"Your intentions are glaringly obvious."

"And yours confuse me, will you let me pass?" she asked, trying to move past him.

"You know, I could throw this piece of crockery right against the wall. They would come in again thinking I am having a violent reaction and they would put me to sleep which would cut this meeting short and make this easier for the both of us. I do not suppose you came here to spoon-feed me, or if you have, you cannot possibly find the prospect enticing."

She was momentarily taken aback by the sudden monologue. He never gave any warnings when he was about to go off on one of his little soliloquies. And the idea of him banging objects against the wall amused her more than intimidated her.

"Huh, it must be a family thing. Thor liked smashing eating utensils too," she commented, smiling crookedly.

Loki opened his mouth in protest.

"Relax, I'm not going to take away your chance to fight your way out of this, but I'm not going to feed you either," she said, walking around him towards the table in the middle.

"Please put the tray here, I'm sure it's heavy. Unless you like standing there like a piece of furniture," she said, already fiddling with the lock of her bag.

Loki blinked in confusion. It had been a while since he had seen her and it was not exactly comfortable hearing her speedy gibberish again.

He walked up to her and placed the tray on the table, making sure not to make it clatter.

"Okay, I am starving," she said sitting down. "I haven't eaten since morning and I've had the worst classes of my life. It was presentation day, of course, for my history course and I was so goddamn nervous I'm sure half the things I said were recycled crap."

Loki closed his eyes in impatience.

"What are you talking about?"

"I had to present stuff in front of an audience, that sort of thing. I'm sure you made a lot of speeches up there," she said, pointing up, "in Asgard, so you are no stranger to public speaking."

"I never have any qualms about it, if that is your meaning. I am always perfectly eloquent."

"Yeah, I can imagine. Well, it's not a fair comparison, since you probably have mad skills and I am pretty ordinary when it comes to...eloquence."

"Mad skills?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I would hardly call them mad. They have nothing to do with insanity."

Darcy covered her mouth and turned so he would not see her laughing. She knew he would make her laugh somehow and she was almost glad she had come.

"Are you done sniggering?" he asked sternly.

"Not nearly. But don't take it personally, I actually meant to compliment you. I _wish_ I had your way with words."

"You've had no problems so far," he muttered under his breath, alluding to their previous confusing and generally insulting conversations.

"Oh, with you it's easier because there are no stakes if I make a fool of myself, but it's not the same with professors. I have to keep a decent average, or else I lose my scholarship and my parents will make those disappointed faces that get to me _every_ single time."

The mention of parents and disappointment seemed to have an effect on Loki. It was a small one, barely a flinch, but it stung rather bitterly. He was reminded, briefly, that he had cruelly disappointed his father, Odin, only to realize a moment later, that he had no father and it was certainly not Odin.

He turned his back to her and walked towards his bed, trying to make the crease in his brow disappear. There was no reason to get upset now. His fingers were trembling again, although he couldn't ascertain the direct cause this time.

"Why do you share personal information with me?" he asked when he felt composed again.

Darcy, who had raised the lid half-way, looked up briefly to see him sitting on his bed again, his hands hidden behind his back, his chin arched upwards defiantly. He reminded her of a schoolboy.

"To distract you, of course."

"From what exactly?" he asked.

"From throwing that tray against the wall. I wouldn't want to clean up that mess and, believe me, they'd make me do it."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Honestly, why do I bother..."

"What? It's still _one_ of my reasons. Besides, I'd be sorry to see good food gone to waste. Because I intend to save it for myself in case you don't want it."

"Oh, is that your brilliant strategy? Getting me to eat by making a spectacle of yourself?"

"A spectacle of myself?"

"Eating in public _is_ a spectacle."

"Then you should appreciate that I'm making a fool of myself, as you see it, just to get you to try these lamb chops."

"Don't even bother. You would only increase my aversion. Now, stop ignoring my question."

"What question?" she asked innocently.

Loki narrowed his eyes at her glacially.

"All right, all right, why do I tell you so much about myself? I don't think I really do, but fine, let's _humour_ you. Maybe I am just lonely. And I lost my diary. And you're a terrific listener."

"Remind me to never attempt a conversation with the likes of you again," he spat annoyed.

"Well, what do you want me to _say_? That I am so self-centred that I can't talk about anything but myself?"

"It would be a start," he commented.

"Hey, I tried starting a conversation on movies, but you wouldn't have it."

"I did not mean-"

"I know, you would not _deign_ discuss such matters with me. I get it. So what, then? Am I supposed to talk about you? Oh, that would go wonderfully. I would ask you about your childhood, your first crush, your metal years, that time you crashed your dad's car -"

"You can cease your prattle. I cannot imagine a greater insult than having you talk about me. I would never want your puny mind to exert itself to such extent."

Darcy rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"It's got nothing to do with my _excellent_ observational skills. In case you haven't noticed, it's a lot harder to talk about you. Because you're not really human, so I can't apply the same rules, I can't just resort to my vast knowledge of human nature because a) I am not acquainted with any other god than Thor and that's not much to go on and b), if I did really label you as human, you'd get extremely pissed and bite my head off. And that tends to make conversations pretty awkward."

"I see. You've known me for the entirety of a month ("a month and a half", she corrected), during which we barely exchanged words, but you've come to draw all these conclusions about me in such short a time," he replied in disdain.

"First off, I wouldn't say we _barely_ exchanged words. Second, I'm not drawing any conclusions, but you know I'm at least partially right."

"Just because you have no idea how to approach me does not mean I am at fault for your blatant ignorance."

"Geez, _no one_ has any idea how to approach you, much less me. I didn't know it mattered to you so much, though."

"What does?"

"What I think of you."

He scoffed in disbelief.

"I care more about the external carcass of that object you write on than your opinion of me," he retorted coldly.

"Then why are you making a fuss about what I say and do?"

"You misunderstand me, as usual. I am only underlining your painfully absurd and pathetic behaviour. I thought there was more to your exaggerate candour, because you would have to be the world's greatest moron to share personal information with me. I see now that I shouldn't have expected more. But if you feel the need to include me in your faulty equation, believing I share your emotional insecurity, I will not stand in your way. _That_ is to be expected," he replied, this time, without any shred of hidden malice in his voice. He really believed in what he said, without any intention to provoke her.

"Because I am human and we all make faulty emotional equations," Darcy concluded, trying to hide her resentment.

"There is no such thing as an emotional equation, but most of it is accurate."

There was a pause in which Darcy mulled over his words.

"_Or_," she began all of a sudden, "you could just be deflecting right now, you know."

"Come again?"

"Maybe you _do_ actually care what I think of you because you wouldn't want to look bad in front of the "inferior human race". Of course you would never admit that. So instead you are using my own weakness to distract me from it. Quite mischievous of you, as I should've expected."

Loki rolled his eyes in disdain.

"Yes, keep telling yourself that, that I am trying to trick you, that deep down I am yearning for your approval. It is a defence mechanism, after all," he muttered, staring at the door in what she supposed was wishful thinking.

She was about to say that he was the one using it as a front, not her, but his eyes suddenly reverted back to hers in a bout of momentary inspiration.

"And you are one to talk. You are full of mischief and duplicity yourself. Not intentional, of course, which makes all the difference. I control it. You probably can't help it. It's natural, what with your selfish, hypocritical nature."

Darcy almost gasped.

"How exactly am I being duplicitous or _selfish_?"

"Well for one, you suggest it makes you uncomfortable to discuss or understand my existence, yet you, much like your disposable kind, make no effort to put an end to your discomfort, but keep prodding on senselessly into unknown territory although you are far above your reach. Secondly, you have no actual interest in what you are researching, it is only a petty game of supremacy to you, you are _solely_ driven by your immense pride in trying to find out as much as possible about me. You are hardly possessed by an actual intellectual curiosity. More likely than not, you are only taking me apart because you need to discover my weak point in order to still have the upperhand once you put me back together. You want to have an advantage before you confront me. So you tread on blindly, scared witless and you fight to destroy me little by little, without understanding _anything_. So yes, you are duplicitous and selfish."

Darcy was momentarily at a loss for words. She supposed she looked rather stupid with her mouth agape, trying to form a logical sentence whilst having his cold hard gaze directed at her in severe judgement. Right now, she served in his eyes as scapegoat for the entire establishment even if she herself had little to do with it. But, since Loki had no one to vent to she had to embody the institution itself, despite the fact that they disapproved of her greatly and considered her an ignorant, vulgar little mess. The irony did not escape her. She would have laughed at the contradiction, but she felt quite helpless at the moment. How could she explain to him that not all scientists were greedy prejudiced assholes who only cared about their giant egoes? Actually, how could she even begin to explain that without another instant rebuttal from him?

All she could muster to say was:

"But _I_ want to understand. I do. Yes, it scares me and it makes me feel stupid sometimes, but I still..." she trailed off.

"Again it all comes down to you, doesn't it?" he asked cynically.

"Oh, yes, you got them to dim the lights," he continued derisively, as if guessing what she would say next, "and you carried that tray all the way here and you probably pestered them with your inane questions out of the goodness of your heart. Oh, yes, I mean _that_. Not only are you, as a rule, a complete and total failure of your own species, but you are also, even more atrociously, driven by your own conscience. I suppose that entitles you to contradict me. But if you cannot see your insignificance in this universe, you should at least see it here, in this very institution. Your so-called good intentions lose their meaning in comparison to their vicious and barbaric actions. You are one against a vast sea of beasts. Your gestures are almost superfluous. I am barely alive anymore to notice them."

Darcy's shoulders sagged in dismay. She lowered her head in sadness.

"But...then you don't think I'm a beast? You don't think I'm like them?"

"Oh, I _know_ you're not like them. But don't take it as a compliment, you foolish girl. Don't you see? You are even more despicable. You pity me. You treat me as an invalid. You are willing to be kind and thoughtful, but not because you understand or honour me as a superior being but because you are the self-centred, emotional, "_good"_ human being. And that is what you are supposed to do, as a _good_ _human being_, you are supposed to help those in need. Disgusting. At least those dullards, those _buffoons_, those philistines do not look down on me. They have cruelty ingrained in their bones and they will stop at nothing to defeat me. They do not care whether I am in need because they know I am above it, they charge at me knowing I am stronger, knowing I can tear them to pieces, because to _them_ I am not a helpless creature, I never was and never shall be! So your display of sympathy is nothing but a poorly-veiled insult and what is more, your pity makes my skin crawl. I command you _not _to pity me! I shall not be pitied!"

He had finished in an unusual fit of passion which was nothing like himself. He was panting heavily and two red spots had appeared on his cheekbones, which was yet another extremely rare occurrence. He truly was undergoing the metamorphosis. He was starving, he was exhausted and he was losing touch with reality.

Darcy had literally shrunk into her chair from his abrupt and spiteful ministrations.

"I won't – I don't, I don't pity you," she croaked painfully.

"What's that? You don't pity me, you say?" he laughed coldly, watching her tremble before him. He was trying to regain his calm. He desperately needed to school his features back into his usual indifference.

"But what's the matter? Are you about to cry, _Darcy_? Is that it?" Loki asked cruelly, deriving actual satisfaction from her discomposure.

"Did I hurt your _feelings_?"

That was the tipping point for her. She suddenly jumped up and slammed her hand against the table.

"I am _not_ crying. And I don't pity you! Why would I ever pity you? You brought this onto yourself! _You_ are a murderer. You hurt my friends. You almost killed Thor. You wanted to destroy your own home! And you were going to destroy Earth too, given the opportunity. You _deserved_ to be punished. And now you can't accept you're no longer a god, even though you know that you, you are the only one to blame! Why would I pity someone who is...someone who is...?"

Loki, who had grown increasingly furious at her hysterical accusations, got up instantly and was at her side in seconds, towering over her menacingly.

"Who is what, Darcy? Who is what?"

Her lower lip trembled slightly but she clenched her fists and hardened her look. She would be damned if she started crying in front of him like a little girl. It was just mental exhaustion. She had been psychologically harassed by someone she'd been trying to help and she wanted her revenge, as petty as that might seem.

_Maybe I want to prove him right, after all,_ she thought bitterly.

"A coward," she finished triumphantly.

Loki instantly paled, his breath caught in his throat. He turned a shade of translucent blue she had never seen before. It was terrifying and mesmerising. The colouring of his skin was so soft she could mistake it for a sudden bout of nausea. It only lasted for some moments. The death-like whiteness resurfaced immediately once he started breathing again. There were red flames in his eyes, dancing wildly.

He suddenly saw the heavy tray behind her. Without even stopping to consider the consequences, he took hold of it and raised it above his head.

Darcy realized he really was going to throw it against the wall as he had threatened earlier.

In a fit of panic, she grabbed his arms and pulled him towards her.

"Don't do it," she started frantically, "don't do it."

He only glared at her with infinite loathing, yanking his arms away.

She shook her head and grabbed hold of him again.

"Loki! Don't do this! They'll just come down here and make you suffer."

"I will not cower before them!" he snapped. "I will tear them to pieces!"

"No! You're supposed to be better than us! You're not supposed to be like this. You're not supposed to be human! Why are you so...?" she trailed off, afraid of what she might say.

She had provoked him. It was absurd to demand him not to have a reaction.

And that's why she was so crestfallen. Because she was walking around in circles when she knew, had known for a while, that actually, gods aren't human precisely because there's an excess of humanity in them. Not the other way around. That is why he was such a jarring, disturbing element, that is why he made her doubt everything around her, because "gods" like him proved that humanity could reach a stage of "imperfect" perfection. And this perfection was such an illusory, poisonous thing that it led to a complete annihilation of self-awareness. Once again, he was the self, without the awareness. The self then only had to be given a new context in order to dispose of its human qualities without any qualms. And that is how too much humanity led to no humanity at all. Consumed by human passions and desires, he fulfilled them inhumanly, resorting to inhuman powers, because he believed he was entitled to, because he could not distinguish human from inhuman. To him, everything was an act of god and therefore, possible and necessary.

She had lost sense of this, she had been too caught up in his other-worldliness, in his distinctiveness.

He stopped for a moment transfixed by her insane and feverish stare.

"I was wrong," she muttered angrily. But this time she was angry with herself. "You are a god."

"I thought I was a murderer. A coward," he spat, trying to pull away.

"You don't see it like that."

"But _you_ do."

"Then prove me wrong! If you don't want me to see it like that!"

"Why should I? I do _not_ care what you think of me!"

"But _I_ care! I care what you think!" she suddenly shouted, covering his voice.

Loki's arms lowered slightly. He narrowed his eyes at her, taken aback.

"What do you mean? What does that have to do with anything –"

His mind had not yet been completely clouded by fury.

It was a syllogism, wasn't it? It was supposed to make sense. There was a major premise: All human beings were emotional and therefore weak. The minor premise: She was human. The conclusion: She was emotional and weak. And it fit, didn't it? She cared because she was constricted by her conscience, her freedom of will was limited _because_ she was emotional and weak and that weakness allowed her few choices, so she could only resort to _caring_.

But still, why _would_ humans care? Why would they? Why? Why?

He knew they did, he could even explain it, but he didn't really understand.

He had insulted her, trampled on her, mentally harassed her, rebuked her every single time. So why were humans so stupid, so reckless, so very -?

No. No. She was selfish and duplicitous, like the rest of them. Yes, she cared because it made her feel worthy, because it elevated her somehow, because it pleased her conscience, but she didn't _really_ care. If he took her apart, like her kind was wont to do, he would find she only cared about _herself_.

And yet...?

If she only cared about herself why would she humiliate herself so thoroughly?

Another syllogism. Major premise? No, it didn't work that way. But it was logical. If she cared about what he had to say enough to be trodden on mercilessly, then it would follow that she cared more about him than about her own pride.

And this is where logics ended. And his comprehension.

_Why_ would she do that?

"Don't you see?" Darcy sighed, reluctant to reveal how she really felt, "If I didn't care I'd go insane. I come here every day and I've been coming for almost two months now and sure I don't always visit you, but I always have to watch over you and observe you from afar– and sometimes, a lot of times, I _want_ to watch you, because, yes, I am selfish - and this is basically what I do every single moment I'm here and I take notes and – sometimes, sometimes there's just a glass wall separating us and I see you and it's _inhuman_ and I can't just turn my back on you and on everything that's going on. I get involved, because that's what I do, I'm stupid like that. I know what you've done and I still somehow manage to pity you. I guess you're right, it's worse, I'm _worse_. I shouldn't pity you, at all. I don't want to. But for some idiotic reason I can't agree with Jane when she says you're a monster."

She had said all of this almost breathlessly and now she was struggling to get the air back in her lungs.

Loki lowered his arms completely and silently dropped the tray back on the table.

Darcy heard its soft clatter and she suddenly realized what she had said. She had told him Jane thought he was a...

She watched him warily, waiting for a reaction of any kind, be it an angry rebuttal or an impassive acquiescence. But she needed _something_. Preferably a verbal response.

Loki would not meet her eyes. He kept staring at the floor in silence.

"I'm sorry –" she began.

"Your apology is unnecessary," he interrupted her harshly.

Darcy almost wanted to reach out and touch his arm again, but noticing her sudden movement, Loki drew away appalled and sneered at her.

"You've humiliated me enough as it," he said, through greeted teeth.

"I just –"

"Just go."

"Loki –"

"Stop saying my name. And leave."

"No, you have to tell me-"

"I don't have to do anything. I don't have to stand here and listen. I told you to leave."

"I can't just leave you like this!"

He shook his head in resignation and turned around, walking to his bed. He sat down and placed a hand over his forehead, sensing the growing, aching pulse. He clenched his fists.

"At least don't be mad –"

"I'm not. You don't inspire – you _won't_ inspire such an emotion again. That I can assure you," he spoke calmly.

Darcy lowered her eyes in disappointment. She walked over to the table and started gathering her things in the slowest way possible.

"_Please_ be quick about it," he suddenly said, realizing she was stalling.

Darcy would have laughed at this sudden polite request. But she was too disheartened to do anything. She knew she would get over it once she was out of there.

She had left the tray behind, not even knowing what she was hoping to achieve by that.

She was about to walk out, but she suddenly stopped at the door. She felt she owed him a final explanation.

"This is my last trial. They can't keep me here anymore. Not unless I bring in some results. Otherwise I'm just dead weight."

"What are you rambling about?" Loki asked distracted.

"If I don't get you to eat, they're letting me go. I've been a nuisance for far too long. So...you won't ever see me again, most likely."

Loki looked up, his interest piqued.

"So you are telling me I may finally get rid of you?"

Darcy smiled, shaking her head. "I suppose. My internship would be over."

"Thank you. Now I know what I have to do. I will finally have peace," he replied, a dark shadow at the corner of his lips.

Darcy did the math in her head. He was intent on avoiding her at all costs. So this would be their last meeting.

"Well, then, I suppose this is goodbye, Loki," she said, clutching her bag to her chest.

He nodded his head gravely, refusing to return her words.

Darcy sighed once more and left the room, vanishing behind the cold white door.

Loki let himself fall against the wall in exhaustion. He felt as if all the energy had been sucked out of him.

He supposed it was a small victory, getting rid of her. He _supposed_.

She had been better than no one, hadn't she? He had almost believed that. He had almost accepted it.

Thankfully, he'd woken up in time. It was easy to let himself be human. That is why it was important to fight it, now more than ever.

He'd rather be a monster, after all.

* * *

><p>A week later, Darcy was officially taken off the project.<p>

Her internship was over. And they no longer allowed her entrance. She was only let in to see Jane in the visitors' lounge. But the woman had little time for her and the only one who came to see her was Erik. He promised to "keep her posted", but she doubted that would amount to much. She felt abandoned. Almost forgotten in matter of days. Her presence was slowly being erased from the building.

But she was supposed to stay away. She would only make things worse.

Sitting in her bed at home, going over her course work, she had started crying quite unexpectedly.

But then she had stopped and she had laughed it off.

She was Darcy, after all. She did not belong there.

* * *

><p><em>And that's a wrap! Phew, I thought I'd never finish this. Don't worry, though, this is certainly not the end and Darcy won't stay away for long, knowing Loki. But we need a little bit of angst sometimes.<em>

_Anyways, make sure to tell me what you think :)_


	5. Chapter 5

_By the hammer of - I actually updated quicker than I intended! Happy dance! I can't wait to see Avengers and get my much-needed Loki supply for the year. Until then, I give you chapter 5 which is a bit more Darcy-charged, as we are dealing with her departure and return, with Loki coming up towards the end in his usual fashion (and now you scrolled down to read that scene quickly, didn't you? :)). This is also my longest chapter ever._

_Now to thank all my amazing reviewers:_

_**ShimmeringWater**: Glad to get the squirrel in shape :) There will be more angst coming, but I don't know about a love triangle. It's a bit too soon now, but we shall see.  
><em>

_**Blinded**-**Kit**: thanks, I'm glad it's refreshing, kind of the best compliment you get in writing :)_

_**ellocheeky**: I knew it, I knew this fic had the potential of hotness, thanks :D_

_**Totems**: thank you! I'm always happy with the words "different take"._

_**i'm not ulysses**: don't worry, I'm becoming your fangirl too, so it's legit. thanks so much for the wonderful review, made me grin like an idiot. I'm so happy this is your favourite Darcy. You hear that, Darcy? Better not disappoint. thanks again for the amazing support and the tiny applause :D_

_**Chuuulip**: hope you're okay though, what with the brain being burned :) thanks a lot:)_

_**Boingy** (spectacular penname): here's more, hope you enjoy it :)_

_**chance969**: I would be bitterly disappointed too, seeing as I like to think I'm in for the long ride, but we'll see how it goes, thanks for reviewing:)_

_**misskeith**: I'm happy I managed to define them, their evolution should be easier to project once the reader has a clear image. hope the chapter doesn't disappoint :)_

_**Lonely Citadel**: and angst shall come to you! there's plenty ahead since Loki isn't really a happy-go-lucky kind of guy and neither is Darcy (see this chapter)._

_**By My Pen**: thanks for noticing my little diatribe on gods vs. humans, there will be more of that as it is inevitable so I'm glad you liked it:) and yeah, 78 stories just goes to show what my parents pay for in college._

_**HistoryGeek1993**: thank you, enjoy the chapter :)_

_So, nothing else left to say than have fun and leave a review to share your thoughts.  
><em>

-5-

The following week, she began to get her life back together in the most normal way possible: she stopped thinking about it.

At first, it seemed like a hard thing to do for someone as neurotic as she, but once she started filling every single moment of her day with mind-numbing tasks and time-consuming extracurricular activities, she found a new sense of relief and detachment from the situation at hand. In form, it seemed to be the same insolent ignorance displayed by most humans when confronted with something they cannot understand (only in her case it was voluntary). In substance, it was the opposite, a proof of a burdensome knowledge.

Even so, she could not really block the essentials. She was well aware her insolence could not reach that far. She had no intention of brainwashing herself or anything similar to self-inflicted amnesia.

_God, who would do such a thing?_

She just needed to stop thinking about it for a while. _Not erase it, never erase it, impossible and unjust to erase_. She only wanted a small break from the tension she had bottled up in the precincts of her head. That's all. Just a couple of days, maybe weeks, free of this excess. The hardest part was accepting the status quo. That is why she required and demanded a break.

_I'll get used to it, I'll understand it, but just let me be for a while, _she seemed to say.

You always need the quiet night before the battle to gather your thoughts and see where you stand. You sleep and in sleeping, you try to absorb the soothing darkness and prolong the state of absence. Secretly, Darcy wanted this night to go on forever.

That is why not thinking about it seemed like the natural recourse.

As a result, she did not get much sleep at night, because the thoughts that she managed to silence during the day came back with a vengeance and plagued her in the hours she could not fill with noise and movement. Reading and watching TV in bed until daybreak were not really demanding activities. In order to solve this "pestering dilemma" she went ahead and joined the local gym. It was a bit radical, considering she had avoided athletic endeavours of any kind all her life, but she took this as an opportunity to find out what she had been missing all along.

Turns out it was worse than she had imagined. There was little satisfaction in subjecting herself to running on a treadmill for half an hour straight. Still, this was what she wanted, to force herself not to think about it. She made sure to stay there as late as possible, working on every machine and muscle possible and exerting herself to such an extent that she would drop dead with exhaustion the minute her feet crossed her threshold.

The exercise did her good. She started eating more properly, which was a first for someone with such a chaotic way of living. She even stopped neglecting her cat. It's true what they say, people always resort to things like religion, health or positive thinking when they are miserable. Darcy had chosen the "healthy lifestyle" card. She had a feeling it wasn't going to last, but then again, it's not like she needed Loki or SHIELD or anyone else to make her feel lost and confused. She knew that ten years from now, just like ten years before, she was and would be just as uncomfortable with who she had become and what she was doing.

She was prone to depression because she never really dealt with her emotions, choosing instead to act out a semi-funny sitcom in her head rather than face cold hard facts. But her generation had little else left to do than spew out pop cultural references and identify with famous TV characters in order to sort out the convoluted state of their minds.

* * *

><p>Wednesday evening she was sitting in the park after a particularly gruelling exam, wondering once again why she needed a degree and couldn't join a circus after all, when she received an unexpected call. It was from Jane, of all people.<p>

"How are you holding up, Darce?" Jane asked after they exchanged some trivial pleasantries.

"Splendid, as usual. And there's no "holding up". You know nothing ever gets me down," she lied, smiling into the phone.

"I do," Jane replied, smiling as well. "You don't look much, but I bet you could take a hit."

Darcy chuckled. She remembered why she was so fond of Jane, after all.

"And you? Everything going all right? Or are you still wasting your nights at the science fair?" Darcy asked lightly.

Jane snorted. "That's one way of putting it. I do need a holiday. But no time to spare now."

"Is it that hectic? I'd thought with me gone the place would get back on its feet."

Jane laughed an uncomfortable laugh.

"It's definitely gotten more depressing without you around," Jane confessed. She did miss the girl's muffin-and-coffee routine, among many other things.

"I hope no one's crying in a bucket."

"Not yet, but Derrick might crack soon. He can't find a better organizer than you, I'm sure of it."

Darcy shook her head in amusement. It felt good to talk about the little things.

"You wouldn't happen to have any free time on your schedule, would you? I was hoping we could meet up."

"Well, Stromwell says he's got a new idea he's going to present tomorrow and I'm curious to see how it goes. Erik thinks he could be a valuable asset to our team."

Darcy frowned. She knew about Stromwell and his lazy theories. Jane would not really give him the time of the day if she could help it.

"That walking snore fest? Hasn't he proven his lack of imagination already?"

"We're verging on desperate. Well, we're always desperate. So any new idea is a good idea."

"In that case, may I come and present my revolutionary unicorn-time-travel theory?"

Jane laughed again.

"But seriously now, Stromwell is not gonna take all day, is he? Cuz then you _really_ need to fire him."

"No, but he's not the only one making a pitch tomorrow. There's a slew of interns who want to claim our attention. You know how these things go..."

"Right..." Darcy murmured slightly unconvinced.

She felt an unpleasant itch in her throat. Jane was avoiding her question. Did she not want to see her after all? It had been almost three weeks now.

"Is Nina going to present tomorrow?" she asked, trying to avoid the unpleasant silence. "You should give her another try."

Nina was another trial-engineer Darcy was particularly fond of. It was a pity she wasn't more up to Jane's standards.

"Nina, yes...She's been begging me to take her off the Nigels 3.4 assignment. She might go for it. Listen, Darcy, I don't know about meeting up. I'm heading to Washington this weekend. I'll be gone for some days," Jane added suddenly, almost as if she were dreading another question from the ever-persistent Darcy.

"_Oh_. Okay. But it's only Wednesday. Maybe I can see you for coffee. One hour, I promise."

"Ah, damn, coffee sounds so good, but Thursday's all booked for me and I am dead beat right now, I was going to go to bed soon."

"It's barely six, Jane."

"Yeah, that's pretty late already. My schedule is insane, I know, I don't even know when to sleep," Jane joked, trying to disperse the tension.

"Jane. Just _tell_ me if you don't want to meet up."

"What? What do you mean? Of course I-"

"It's okay. I don't mind. I mean it's no big deal, but you don't have to make up excuses."

"Darcy..."

"What? What is it? We both know you're not going to bed right now. I can practically hear you working. Why can't you come out for _one_ hour? Even _you_ have to shower and eat."

"Darcy, I only called to see how you were doing, I didn't think you wanted to – I don't think we should talk about –"

"We're not going to talk about _that_. I just want to see you as a friend!"

Darcy realized she had almost shouted. She stopped and pressed a palm to her forehead. She knew she wasn't fooling anyone, despite her convincing attempts at normalcy. She tried to defend herself. It had been an impulse of the moment she hadn't had time to analyze.

_I want to see her for her_, she reasoned.

"And what is _that _exactly?" the woman challenged her.

"That...what do you mean? You know what that is!" Darcy retorted, growing ashamed. "Why are you asking me this? You called _me_. Not the other way around. I'm not fishing for information, if that's what you're thinking."

"That's not what I –"

"If I had wanted to know more about _him_, I would've been the one calling you or Erik or any other goddamn person working there -"

"Darcy! Please, calm down. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything. Honestly."

Jane sounded so much in earnest that she almost faltered.

"You're right. I called _you_. I just thought you were having a hard time, is all. That was condescending of me. I shouldn't have supposed that. I know you're my friend. And I know you wouldn't take advantage of that."

Darcy felt a terrible pang right in her chest. Jane did not deserve her anger. She was only trying to help. Her expression softened instantly.

"No. You weren't condescending, Jane. Not at all. You're...too polite. God, look at me, I'm flipping out at you just because of a stupid exam. You don't need that. No one needs that. And you shouldn't give me that much credit, maybe I do take advantage of you sometimes. Maybe you just don't know it yet. I mean even now, I'm trying so hard to convince you that I'm not...that I'm being honest..."

Jane sighed in her typical big-sister fashion.

"You know I didn't just call to ask how you're doing, Darce. I _am_ genuinely concerned. I can't meet up with you per se and you _know_ I can't tell you much about him, but I'm willing to listen –well, that's why I called, actually. I thought you might need someone to talk to. Because you _can_ talk about it, if you want. I'll listen."

"That's...that's incredibly considerate of you, but I don't want to talk about it," Darcy answered, feeling the blood draining from her face as quickly as it had come.

"Oh, then I – I guess I should've told you from the start –"

"It's not that I don't trust you or that you wouldn't understand. I just don't see the point. I mean how will it help anyone? It'll just make me feel stupid."

"Oh..."

"I just want to know...well, how he's doing. And what happened after I left and how the research is going. But I don't want to talk about me," she quickly clarified.

"I see..." Jane trailed off unsure.

"But you don't think that's a good idea. And neither does Erik who was supposed to "keep me posted"," Darcy gathered bitterly.

"Darcy, you were and still _are_ an extremely valuable asset to us, internship or no internship."

"Asset? Really? Huh. How exactly am I an asset?"

"An emotional asset, which is just as important," Jane offered weakly.

"You don't believe that."

"If there's one thing I believe, it's that."

"I have to go," Darcy said abruptly, getting up from the bench. "It's going to rain soon and I don't want to get wet."

"Oh, you're outside? All right then, I guess we'll talk later. I'll call you...maybe Friday, or after I get back from Washington."

Darcy could hear the small disappointment in Jane's voice. She couldn't help it, though. She had no patience for pity.

"Okay, then, I'll be expecting your call," Darcy replied, her tone softer. "Wish Nina good luck for me. And take care of yourself. And don't work too hard."

"I won't. Well, at least I'll try not to."

"There is no try, only do, young Skywalker," she contradicted, quoting Yoda in her usual jesting manner.

Jane chuckled in relief.

"Darcy?"

"Yep?"

"You should know that –"

"Yes?"

"They're feeding him intravenously now. They finally managed it. That's the only thing I know."

Darcy tried to suppress a smile. She felt a small surge of happiness in knowing he was not dying from starvation anymore. His transition was almost complete.

But then a more selfish, sinister thought crept into her mind and drew back the corners of her mouth. Sure, he was finally human enough to be fed, but then any hope she had of being needed there dropped entirely.

She had foolishly indulged the thought that he might accept the food in exchange for her presence. She winced at her adolescent way of thinking.

"Thanks, Jane, that's good to know. Have a nice trip."

* * *

><p>That night, she left the gym at midnight and ended up going to the nonstop diner across the street. She ordered some breakfast pancakes and a lot of ice cream she used as topping, undoing most of her work out for that day. As she sat in her booth and looked out at the dark sky and the dim lights of a law firm twinkling sadly in the distance, she felt a sudden surge of excitement. It was night time and she was alone and maybe if she took out her phone and stared at it for a really long time and wished really hard –<p>

No. No, no, no, no, no.

She dropped her head on the table.

_Ugh, you're just like all those other stupid girls._

And she was, really. Didn't they all have a thing for brooding, Byronic, assholes who mistreated them? And didn't they find them fascinating and mesmerising even if they knew better? Yeah, those girls.

It was an affront to Loki himself too. After all, he was supposed to be a miraculous gateway to an unexplored world, an unprecedented chance at discovering Asgard. Thor had left them too soon and now they had been blessed with another (human-)god. The chief thing here was to extract as much information as possible. Not to turn him into a convenient stereotype she could attach imaginary feelings to.

And what was she doing?

She had been made privy to an amazing, unfathomable, overwhelming discovery and instead of focusing on this solely, without letting her delusional emotions get in the way, she had managed to think of him as...she didn't even want to say it or acknowledge it.

She remembered her first college crush. First year philosophy professor.

She thought of Loki in the same way. Except Loki wasn't the kind, charismatic and considerate Dr. Sterne who praised her papers and encouraged her to publish her works.

But it was the basic principle.

She wanted to hit herself. Would adolescence never pass? Would she be stuck in this phase forever? Would girls never learn their lesson? That they need to stop romanticizing men who should not be romanticized? That no matter how novel, how exciting, how amazing a human-god might be on a scientific and intellectual level, he was not and would never be her philosophy professor?

Guess not. Not now, at least.

* * *

><p>Three days later, she decided to ditch gym and late-night cramming and go out with some friends, get a couple of drinks and recharge her batteries. They had to celebrate; only two more exams to go.<p>

They decided to meet at this shady, artsy-looking, framed-beer-pictures on-every-wall kind of pub close to her school.

Jess, Lou and Matt were gathered around a table in the back of the joint with a couple of stale beers and a bowl of chips in front of them, complaining about "shit teachers and the collapse of social education in America", needlessly assuming someone (an invisible audience) was listening.

Right off the bat, they told her they had invited Frankie and David as well, because they ran into them at the bus station and they couldn't get out of it.

"Lou here basically made sure we couldn't avoid them," Matt said, pointing at the redhead next to him who was throwing him a sour look.

"I couldn't just throw all my bags in the nearest ditch, could I? He was going to notice –"

"Then why the hell did you go shopping in the first place? You couldn't do it tomorrow?"

"Why would you care when I do it?"

"I care when it gets me a night out with the campus dream team."

"Oh, shut your mouth, it's not like they were not going to _see_ us, with or without my bags!"

"You were carrying three bags! Three! I want to know why you need so much crap –"

"So not your business, Matt."

Darcy sighed happily and fell into her chair with a feeling that all was right in the world. She was watching her friends bicker with a sense of peace and tranquillity. This was exactly as it should be. She didn't even remember talking to Jane, or at least she wouldn't anymore after some much needed drinks and mindless chatter.

She planned on making fun of Frankie and David as soon as they showed up. She was even glad they were coming. She always enjoyed making snarky remarks about them and their perfectly bleak relationship.

Around her fourth beer, when she was already quite tipsy, the pair finally made their appearance. They looked identical. She'd heard about men and women developing a mirror-like behaviour after some time in a relationship to the point where they mimicked each other perfectly, but this was just plain ridiculous.

Darcy and Jessica exchanged a look. The former smirked mischievously and cleared her throat in preparation for what was to come (she had the reputation of being a wild card and the couple knew it), when suddenly, David, who had lunged over the able to shake Matt's hand, knocked over her glass, sending its contents straight onto her shirt and slacks.

"Oh, wow, damn, I'm not even drunk and I'm getting girls wet!" David joked in his oafish manner, laughing good-humouredly.

Darcy glared daggers at him. "Yeah, no peripheral vision and no fucking sense of humour either. I'm practically moist."

David's mouth opened abruptly in surprise, but Jessica sensed it would not end well, so she quickly intervened and pulled Darcy out of their booth towards the bathroom.

"She just had one too many beers," she explained to David apologetically.

"No, I didn't!" Darcy protested angrily, letting herself be dragged away by her friend.

"Do you want me to go in with you?"

"No, I'm fine, I just have to go wash up," she said, yanking her hand away awkwardly. "Just make sure that idiot doesn't sit next to me."

She barged into the bathroom carelessly, went straight to the one of sink units and turned on the tap to cold water. She started splashing her face rhythmically, trying to sober up and cool down.

The T-Shirt stuck to her skin like hot glue and it smelled like vomit to boot.

Darcy tried to pull its hem towards the sink to wash it up, but instead she got more water on her pants.

She grunted in frustration and pressed her hands over the cold tiles.

The door to the bathroom swung open and a young girl came in to refresh her makeup.

Darcy quickly dashed into a stall. She sat down on the toilet seat and took off her T-Shirt. Her skin felt sticky and grubby, like the floor under her feet. She wanted to tear it off and be done with it. Be done with friends and drinks and college and parents and working out and complicated books and music and art and everything that was noble in the world.

She wiped the small tears from her eyes with the beer-soaked T-Shirt.

Then she took out her phone from a back pocket. She felt like calling her mother, for some reason. It was a terrible idea, considering that she was not altogether sober or rational, but she needed a comforting voice.

She dialled the number, trembling slightly from the cold.

"Hello...? Darcy, is that you?"

"Mom. Hey," Darcy exhaled in relief. "How's it going?"

"Oh, good, it's you. I thought I saw a different number. I'm fine sweetheart, I'm just watching TV with your dad. What are you up to?"

"Oh, not much, I just wanted to know if you guys – if you're okay and everything. I'm in the bathroom right now, cuz I'm out with the guys and there's a lot of noise in this pub."

"Really? Out with friends? You're not somewhere dangerous, are you Darcy?" her mother asked, without really being concerned.

"Oh, no way, it's this small place close to school, it's kind of pathetic actually – but we're celebrating, exams and all that..."

"Oh right, I was going to call you about that. Any more exams this week? Or was it just that one on Wednesday?"

"Just that one. On Wednesday," she repeated mechanically, feeling her head heavy on her shoulders.

"You said it went well, right? I think you told me it was fine."

Darcy laughed all of a sudden. "Yeah. _Fantastic_."

"What's so funny? Maybe you shouldn't talk in the bathroom honey," her mother said warily.

"It was great mom. I told you it was great. I think I nailed it, really nailed it. But maybe I should in any case consider applying to more schools..."

"More schools? Well, it _is_ your last year and we never really discussed your Bachelor's until now, but don't get overly zealous, we need a plan..."

"My Bachelor's? Pffff, that's eons away!" Darcy half-shrieked, half-laughed.

"What do you mean? You don't sound like yourself, what's going on?" her mother asked, growing concerned.

"No, mom, I have to get my MA first. Can't just skip it. I should just write a bunch of essays and send them everywhere."

"Darcy, what are you talking about?"

"Well, I have to keep my options open, I mean what if Vassar rejects me?"

"Darcy, are you all right? You're not making any sense. You never applied to Vassar," her mother told her, growing more and more alarmed.

"But I really wanted to, you know that. I even told you about it. What? You thought I couldn't do it? Not smart enough?" she snarled out of the blue, shaking her T-Shirt in front of her like a flag.

"Honey, you never even told me about Vassar! Have you been drinking? Why are you saying these things?"

"Okay, mom, okay, I never ever ever ever mentioned Vassar. Vassar doesn't exist. Fine. But every single one of these schools would take me in. You have no _idea_ what I've been doing, do you? Can you guess? Can you?"

"Darcy, please stop talking like this, it's just too much alcohol, and whatever regrets you might have about Vassar –"

"Forget Vassar! Who cares about that? It was like this once in a lifetime chance, mom, once in a lifetime! And I blew it! I blew it right out of the water! I screwed myself sooooo bad! You'd actually be proud! You know, like you said, a Lewis needs to drink it to the last drop!"

"Darcy, listen to me, you need to get home and rest –"

"Do you know how small you are, mother? How insignificant? Do you know how thin that thread is, the thread you hang onto? Might as well be dead."

Mrs. Lewis drew back frightened. She had heard this speech before. She had yelled at them in a similar fashion some weeks ago during spring break. Something about the universe being absurd and humans having no purpose on the planet.

"Darcy, it's normal for you to go through this, you have doubts, you're afraid about your future, you don't know where you fit in all this. We know, we've all been there, but it's not as bad as you think it is. It's got nothing to do with death. You're just young. And we're right behind you, your dad and I, supporting you one hundred percent. We won't let you fail, we'll help you find your place and a job and everything you might need –"

"I just need to know it's all a lie! That's all I need! Please tell me he's _not_ real! Why is he real? I mean all this thinking, all this knowledge, all this art, all this beauty for nothing! For nothing! And we're nothing!"

"Darcy, calm down and get out of there this instant! You're drunk and you're not being yourself! You need to get home right away. I'll call you a cab. Please give me the address."

"But he's nothing too!" Darcy continued undeterred. "That's the thing! It's so hopeless! He's no better! Their world is no better! And that sucks doesn't it? To know that whatever's up there is probably just as shitty as it is here. And I knew this, I knew this before anyone! No, actually all the great people in history knew this for sure. I'm just younger."

"Darcy, please snap out of this! You're acting out and it's not funny! You're really worrying me! What on Earth's got into you? Is it some awful existential book?"

"Book? There's no book on that! I'm telling you from experience, they lie and cheat and make stupid mistakes and all sorts of crap, just like all the other morons here, but they get to feel entitled about it, they don't have to choose, they're privileged–"

She stopped mid-sentence when she heard the beeping of an incoming call. Before she had any time to press the button, the second line disconnected the first one and Erik's gruff yet smooth voice rang into her ears.

"Darcy? Are you still awake? Good. Sorry to call you at such a late hour. I was meaning to do this earlier. I got caught up with work."

"Erik?" she blurted out, rubbing her eyes.

"Am I interrupting something? I apologize, I was supposed to call you this morning."

"Did Jane put you up to this? Has she left already?"

"Jane? Yes, she's on the road to Washington, but this has nothing to do with her. I didn't have time to see her," he replied, slightly confused by Darcy's accusatory tone.

"Oh. Then she didn't – we just talked. Three days ago. Sorry, Erik, I can't do this right now, I'm not being myself."

"Yeah, I can tell. Listen, you need to come in tomorrow."

Someone started knocking on her stall.

"Hey, you there, when are you gonna come out? You can't just sit there forever!"

Darcy turned her head away and pressed the phone to her ear.

"What? Come in where?"

"Darcy, you know where. Just be there at three in the afternoon. Don't be late."

Darcy felt she was going to throw up any second now.

"Hang on, what's going on? Why do I have to come in? I'm not coming unless you explain."

"Well why do you think you _have_ to come? Honestly, Darcy, stop acting like a child. I don't need to spell it out for you."

"Actually, yeah, because I am kind of drunk right now and I might not remember any of this tomorrow either way. And you should give me some goddamn answers. You _promised_ to keep me posted, remember?"

Erik sighed audibly. "I told them this was a bad idea."

"Told who? What do you mean bad idea?"

"You're not exactly a paragon of professionalism. Not even a proficient student, really. Which is probably the point."

"Paragon of wha-?"

"Loki has been asking for you since yesterday."

* * *

><p>Lying half-asleep in the back of a cab, she stared in front of her absently, fingering the buttons of her jacket.<p>

She had chosen this; this small life. She had always chosen the easy way out; easy major, easy college, easy town, easy friends.

And now for the first time something, something so complex and terrifying had happened to her, something so absurd and _difficult_ – and she, like an idiot, felt so drawn to it. Instead of repelling it, she was embracing it eagerly, like a dazzled little girl who didn't know she was way in over her head.

She was happy. And not for the right reasons.

She hit her fist against her forehead. "Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid."

But it didn't matter, because she would go and see him anyway.

* * *

><p>She showed up at two in the afternoon, one hour early. The headquarters looked quite desolate and empty for that time of the day. She had to park some miles away in a specially designated parking zone from which she would usually be escorted into SHIELD in what she liked to call a slow-moving go-kart.<p>

This time was no different. They had to cross a lot of desert and dead land until they reached the facility grounds.

Here she would be taken in and given a thorough check-up on the main level, after which two assistants would take her up the elevator to the second level for the daily briefing.

Third level housed some of the research laboratories and practice rooms and somewhere between the third and fourth, you could find Loki.

He was well-hidden in a wing that was not exactly populated, but if you knew your way around well-enough (like she did), it took very little time to get there.

This time around, she was taken to Selvig's office on the fourth level.

"I told you three o'clock, Darcy, not two," was the first thing Erik noted upon her entrance.

"Yeah, I thought I'd save you guys some precious time this way," she offered, sitting down in the chair he offered in front of his desk.

"Or, you are overly eager and quite bad at dissimulating it."

Darcy didn't know whether to smile or frown. Erik seemed rather cold. He was standing with his back to her, staring at his whiteboard, his marker paused over an elaborate system of binaries he had drawn.

She felt like an inconvenience.

"Shouldn't I be eager? I know it's not my usual style. But this is a really big opportunity for me. I've been given a second chance. Don't worry, I understand that my place here is not only temporary, but also conditioned –"

Erik sighed and scratched his head with his marker.

"This isn't a second chance. You shouldn't even have a place here, Darcy. As fond as I am of oddities and as original as you may present yourself to be, this agency doesn't tolerate people who have no function. I can't even say your stay here is temporary – I can't pronounce myself yet."

Darcy's eyebrows were knitted in confusion.

Erik turned towards her with a sad smile on his face.

"I would have thought you knew by now. They didn't let you go because you didn't manage to feed him – it even sounds idiotic as a sentence, don't you think? They let you go because it was time to let you go. You had your uses, I won't deny that, but you were kept here mostly because Jane is very fond of you and I – though I may not show it – appreciate the help you've given us with Thor. There is the fact that you already knew too much. In any case, Jane and I insisted you be given a chance with Loki, seeing as you managed to get along so well with Thor. I suppose it was favouritism. Now, though, it's a lot more serious than that - in fact it's quite the opposite - and I hope that, as a friend, you know what you are getting yourself into, because this isn't about made-up internships and college credits."

Darcy had expected as much. His speech did not really surprise her, seeing as she had almost scoffed at Jane's insistence that she was an asset to begin with. But she had never really thought it through and it was a bit of a wake-up call to hear it from someone else. She had suspected that her interactions with Loki were not regarded with much importance, although two or three more observant people on the staff did pay heed to them, and that she was not even an unofficial part of the agency, but it had never dawned on her just how petty her existence there had really been. She had become the bumbling sidekick, dragged along for the ride by her two far more competent friends. They had carried her so far.

And now it wasn't going to be like that anymore, was it?

"Miss Lewis, no one is hiring you, you're not to receive remuneration, not yet, and you'll have no proof that you do indeed frequent this facility. The same need for discretion is, I'm sure you realize, more than paramount. One word of this and you won't even graduate. Actually, one mistake here may cost you even more than that. Forget college and a career. Forget privacy too."

"Are you trying to talk me out of it?"

Erik smiled unpleasantly.

"No need for that. You'll do it anyway. Because you're young, impressionable...and they will make you do it somehow. Now listen to me carefully, you are going to do the same thing you did before, but actually do it this time. Monitoring is a safe word for it, I suppose, but I prefer to call it engaging in careful observation on a deeper level. I know that's an odd way of putting it, but bear with me. I am only trying to underline the importance of a direct exposure. You have the quite unique opportunity of becoming closer to this creature and examining it on an emotional and intellectual level with the added bonus of being able to exchange personal impressions; that is what I meant by a deeper level. But you must be subtle about it, you mustn't pry and insist, you must practice patience; that is where you need to be careful. Finally, you must always be alert and record everything, no matter how insignificant."

Darcy nodded her head resolutely, making mental notes already.

"I understand."

Erik sighed again, suppressing a smile. "No, you don't. You wouldn't be as composed if you did. Nevermind, you have to be immersed in it, then you will process it."

"I always took this job seriously."

"I believe you, but not many took or will take you seriously here. Well, you might have an advantage still."

Darcy raised her eyebrows. "Advantage?"

"You might, well I only say _might_, manage to exact some sort of influence on Loki. You might...persuade him to do certain things."

Darcy's eyebrows rose even further. "Persuade him? That seems a bit on the impossible side."

"He did call for you, didn't he? Your prolonged absence made him react. One may surmise that you indirectly made him act on it."

Darcy felt her heart going haywire and her blood running to her cheeks, but luckily Erik was staring out the window, lost in thought.

She shook her head, causing her hair to fall over her face and shield them from his critical eye.

"Maybe you just replaced me with the wrong person and Loki preferred the lesser evil," she said, smiling to herself.

Erik chuckled. "I suppose that was a veiled question. And to answer it, yes, we did try to replace you Darcy, with a professional this time. That, apparently, wasn't to his taste. He reacted rather sourly. I imagine he feels safer with a weaker mind."

Darcy scoffed, slightly piqued.

"Come on, we both know that's not it."

Erik turned to her surprised.

"I did watch him for over a month and a half and I can tell you he simply doesn't give humans the time of the day. I think he might've felt more comfortable around me because I was such a ridiculous specimen to him that there was no way he'd feel threatened. I was a non-entity, almost like a negligible particle. Maybe...maybe just on an emotional level, being deprived as he was of any other human contact, towards the end, he started to react badly. I might've affected him a little, but anyone in his condition would've been affected. Not to mention, he was also exhausted and starved, because he was fighting himself, so he was naturally violent."

Her voice had slightly faltered in the end and Erik had noticed.

"Hmm. Yes, you have a very good point. Surprisingly much more comprehensible than other conclusions I've come up with. But I'd like you to focus on this part you find so hard to talk about. The so-called violence. His reaction to the new companion was something like elementary rage and defiance, I believe it was irate disbelief at being submitted to a "worse evil", to put it like you did, and he acted accordingly. But if you could incite any other more complex emotions we might get somewhere. It's obvious your replacement failed to do that. Now I know you will cross the boundaries of common sense with your wild questioning and that's fine; you should ask him about his feelings towards Odin, towards the Frost Giants and his heritage, you should try and get this emotional response from him because it would lead to something more substantial, but I know you and I suppose you'll go further than that, further than common decency will allow which would set us back a great deal. You need to find the right balance between restraint and audacity."

There was a pause in which Darcy repeated the words "restraint" and "audacity" out loud in her head.

Something did not click, though.

"Erik, I know they're trying to acquire more information about him and Asgard in general, but is there something specific they're looking for? Does Loki know something they don't about _this_ world? I mean, do they need a _certain_ piece of information?"

Erik stared at her in surprise. "You're a lot sharper than I gave you credit for."

Darcy stifled the surge of pride that went through her at this sudden compliment. It had been a somewhat lucky guess, but it wasn't that hard to deduce, was it?

"I'm not allowed to know, am I?"

Erik shook his head. "They don't know that much about it, either. And if they told you more, you'd be tempted to try your own tactics with Loki in order to acquire said information and...well, you know how deceitful he can be and how...transparent you are."

Well, she couldn't get two compliments in one day.

"That makes sense," she agreed. "But maybe in time, if I am entrusted with this..."

"Darcy, you might not have this job come tomorrow. Your place here is very unstable. There will be no entrusting."

The girl wanted to reply, but she suddenly stopped midway and folded her arms in disapproval.

"Now, hold on. From what you're saying, it seems like they need me. They need me specifically for this. It's not so unstable then, is it?"

Erik chuckled good-humouredly. "Ah, young people, always so inadvertently charming."

* * *

><p>The briefing with Erik had gone on for an hour, but she didn't know she would be spending another two on the second level. She realized then that Erik had wanted to prepare her in advance for this second briefing, where no one would answer her questions or demand her opinion on anything, so that she would know where she stood and what she had to do without being overwhelmed by the strangers in front of her.<p>

Before she was finally allowed to the third level, they made sure to take her laptop with them, assuring her she would receive it back no later than the following day. She had been extremely reluctant to part with it but they had insisted vehemently.

Having given up one important possession already, she was now relegated to Loki's wing, carrying only her messenger bag and its meagre contents within, wondering what she might do now without her trusty laptop that had always given her a purpose.

The escort was walking in front of her and upon noticing that Loki's room was empty, he concluded he was taking a supervised walk in the green house.

Darcy had seem him take these walks before, but she had never been allowed in there, she had only observed him from a notice-point above the green house.

The escort left her at its doors.

Darcy took in a deep breath. She looked back. She could, hypothetically speaking, turn back right now, find that snotty escort and make him take her back, tell Erik she wanted out, leave SHIELD, drive home and continue cramming for the upcoming exam.

One mistake and forget college and career, Erik had said.

But what was a mistake?

She walked in undeterred, leaving those thoughts behind.

She didn't spot him at first, because the place was huge and there were plants everywhere, of all types, tall and short, bushy and lean, odorless and colourful, poisonless and odourous, colourless and poisonous and even some that she was sure could never exist anywhere else.

The entire place was a labyrinth of plants and trees. It was more of a carefully designed park. It was a round-shaped cylinder constructed on several levels with stairs built into the walls. Each level had a small balcony where you could stand and observe the green house in its full beauty.

That is where she found Loki. There were two guards behind him and two others on the foreground.

He was leaning against the railing, looking about him with an absent look in his eye, not even seeing anything to begin with.

She almost smiled. He no longer looked as gaunt and as sleep-deprived as before. His cheeks were a bit fuller, his colour a bit more normal and he was wearing his black suit with more ease and leisure.

She had been told at the second briefing that they might stop feeding him intravenously (which was uncomfortable and unprofitable for both parties, not to mention unsustainable) for which purpose she should convince him to partake in the meals that were served to him, but left untouched regularly. She couldn't picture it though, eating with Loki; actually sitting down and watching him eat. It would seem perverse.

His wandering eyes finally fell upon her figure.

A small line appeared on his forehead as he leant even further, demanding her attention.

Their eyes locked.

Darcy didn't smile, didn't speak, didn't wave, didn't blink. She just stared back.

Loki's cold hard gaze seemed to penetrate her unpleasantly.

There was no intimation, no spoken words, but Darcy understood from that look alone that Loki did not want her there.

And that he did, at the same time.


	6. Chapter 6

_Whoa! 22 reviews? My mind is blown. That must be a record. I've never gotten so many reviews for one chapter. You guys are incredible! Thank you so much! I'm so happy to have you as readers cuz then these looong pseudo-philosophical paragraphs aren't all in vain :)  
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_Before I start writing replies, I'd like to say that since I wrote the last chapter, the legendary Donna Summer, a favourite of mine, has passed away and that's an immense loss for all of us. I included a song of hers in this chapter, because, well, it worked with the awkward comedy in that scene, but also because I wanted to pay her an homage of some sorts. Don't worry, though, it's not because I felt compelled to do it, I didn't force it._

_Speaking of which, yes, this chapter includes some weird brand of humour. You might like it, you might not. Let me know._

_Now on to the reviews:_

_**Blinded-Kit**: Thank you, good to know you still like it, hope this chapter won't change that._

_**Alerie Sand**: yey, that's the reaction that I want, if it made you think I'm a happy writer:)_

_**XxJellyxX**: thank you, I hope the writing stays as good :)_

_**The Hot Mage Aeris**: updated! redundant, I know :)_

_**i'm not ulysses**: All right, all right, you get to be the fangirl in this relationship :)) That might change soon, though :) Thanks so much again for such a consistent and lovely review, yours always make me all giddy :D Leaving that aside though, I'm really happy you appreciated the whole Darcy-in-the-real-world chapter, we might get more of those later on. I really hope her relationship with Loki doesn't turn into this superficial girl meets god sort of thing, even though it's really hard to keep it up to standard and make it believable too. Eh, hope I've done an okay job with this chapter. Also, fanart! Squee! I couldn't ever produce something worthwhile that could be called fanart so I really admire those who can. Thanks again for being awesome :)_

_**miss keith**: Thanks so much for the compliments! Hopefully neither Loki nor Darcy will stray too far from their characters in the course of this fanfic. Also, this one's gonna be a slow-burn. So no way is Loki already in love with her, not even close, so that should make you happy :))_

_**Yi xuan**: Awww, I feel so flattered! Man, I hope I can keep it up. Because it's a bit daunting to try to capture Loki's thought-process. And fret not, Loki is faaar from loving her. He's still very much himself. But thanks so much, I hope I don't disappoint :)_

_**Dance Elle Dance**: thank you! much appreciated :)_

_**Girl-chama**: Cruel, you say? Never thought of it that way, but it is a bit of a naturalistic process so you're kind of right :) I'm happy it's entertaining, thank you:) And I myself can't really explain Loki's interest in Darcy, because that was the goal, for it to be so convoluted and absurd that you can't even really express it in words, but it's just there. And he's definitely conflicted, you put it really well, there is a lot of grief deep down. Thanks again for the kind words :)_

_**Leviathan of the Skies**: Not stopping:D and thank you :)_

_**Lady Bec of Imagineland**: I'm happy to see this story has inspired some ideas for writing, maybe you'll write your own :)_

_**ice bitten**: Oh yey Loki seems like he has an "old soul", mission accomplished :)) But really now, delighted that you love this story and I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint._

_**SecretAgent99**: Awww, squeal, gasp AND giggle? Excellent :)) Thanks so much for the kind words and don't worry, these two will get their act together at one point in the future :)_

_**Jewel Song**: Hey, glad to see you liked the SHIELD stuff, we're getting a bit more of that this chapter, also Darcy will forever question her place there so it will be a recurring theme :) And yey, bathroom stuff worked! I thought it would be too cheesy._

_**jnotjane**: I'm so honoured this is your favourite Loki story, that's a lot of pressure:) In a way, it is like a 2-character play. It's funny cuz somewhere in this chapter I mentioned them being on an empty stage. And don't worry, I'm trying to stay as far away as possible from romanticizing Loki._

_**Patpat**: Well, I'm sad to say you'll have to wait to find out what SHIELD want from Loki, it'll take a couple of chapters :) In happier news, Loki is back:)_

_**CreedsGalBirdy**: You don't know how happy you made me by saying that! This is what I strive to do; make it as real and believable as possible, not coat it in several layers of rainbows and butterflies, as you put it. Thank you :)_

_**that one reviewer**: exactly, the pacing is supposed to be quite slow, because it will be some time before they develop actual feelings. And yes, Darcy is more likely to do that first, but she's still in the stage of a kind of superficial crush. You expressed it very well, Loki is still in his 'holier than thou' state of mind and it will last for a while:)_

_**BeckyFriend**: so glad you got "tied up into it", hope you don't get out too soon (as in keep reading) :)_

_**Jaded117**: Oh, the ease is only an illusion:)) There's a lot of sweat and tears my friend :)) But the important thing is to give the illusion of ease, so I'm happy :)_

_**Mizra**: On the contrary, 12:40AM is the perfect time to read this, my best writing happens at that hour, so you'd be nsync :)) I hope I can keep up the intellectually-stimulating chapters:)_

_**Lauramarydonovan**: continued!:)_

_One last thing before you get to the actual chapter: this story will eventually merge with the Avengers. So I hope you stick around to see that happen.  
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_As always, make sure you tell me what you think :)  
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* * *

><p>-6-<p>

Darcy knew SHIELD was a hostile environment and the green house was no exception. Despite the exuberant greenery edging out at every corner, there was no real life in anything around her. The trees had no sap, the plants withered from within and the flowers grew dank and stilted. You wouldn't notice these things from above. From above, all you'd see was a masterful decay, an array of bright shades of greyish green, mustard-yellow and orange-red seeping through the glass ceiling. As void and complete as an El Greco.

That must have been his view.

Down here, where the senses were clogged and the colours dimmed and blurry, you had to feast your eyes on crumbling canopies that looked like plasters, tumbling down into puddles of dust.

She saw the guards posted at every gateway across the wide expanse of this decrepit labyrinth. It made her shudder in disgust at the sight of their grim-lined faces and the delicate metal arches reclining over their heads, like the blades of a guillotine.

SHIELD's chosen locations were always eccentric, but the interior designs were even more unbearable. She had never visited any of their other offices across the country but this current subdivision in particular, had gone out of its way to make the place a cluster of contrasts and clashing architecture. The feeling had always been there, but only now as she sat in the laboriously crafted green house did she realize that one of the main reasons she had never felt comfortable there was because everywhere she went there was always something new and ghastly to become accustomed to.

The idea was to be constantly shaken out of ease, cornered into a state of mental imbalance and chronic awareness, though not enough to scramble your brains or damage any important nerve function, but just enough to harvest anxiety and uncertainty where they needed harvesting. The end result was that she, like everyone else there, was kept in a fervent state of tension and vigilance, with the cruel addition of not knowing the object of said tension and vigilance. And that was the genius of it. No one knew _why_ they felt this way. No one could pinpoint it. It escaped any kind of rhyme or reason. People need to know the opposing force, or at least _have_ an opposing force. You couldn't just invent your tormentor, he had to be invented for you, because if you did go ahead and invent him, your mind would simply come up with the most atrocious monstrosity it could find and you would end up in a battle with your own worst self. Insanity would ensue. And an insane person could not come out and say SHIELD was purposely playing psychological warfare on them, because it was their word against a practically unassailable institution. They would only be running in circles, trying to prove that an organization that needed its members in top shape (both mentally and physically) would purposely harm their psyches in order to subdue them when there are crucial matters of world-class terrorism at hand. And _that_ was insane.

Darcy was simply falling prey to the same vicious circle. It started when you tried to analyze your sensations. As long as you kept at it without notice, you were miserable, but only slightly so. You only felt small things, like a hissing in your ear, the prick of an insect on your skin, the discomfort of your desk chair, the dizziness in the sterile air; little mental inconveniences. Nothing more. Sensitive people, though, they pried. They pried into these discomforts and ended up twice as inconvenienced.

Even when she had just been the poor replica of a running lapdog, providing her colleagues with pastry and warm beverages or sorting out the unkempt desks and archives, she had not lost of the sense that she was slowly disintegrating.

But maybe only the common people felt it; maybe only weak characters let themselves be attacked so easily. Maybe up there, at the centre, no one was in the least bit disturbed.

So maybe the view from above truly was beautiful. In fact, she was certain it was.

Loki could not tear himself away from it, because it was something different.

* * *

><p>She didn't have to wait long. His outing was over and he would be taken back to his wing. She stood quietly at the giant doors, shifting from one foot to the other, trying to come up with something smart and unassuming to say to him as greeting, something that would show she was not at all dwelling on why she was there, that she didn't believe or need to believe that Loki had had a hand in it.<p>

You know, not like all those stupid girls who needed reassurance.

He was suddenly in her eye view and they were bringing him closer and closer, walking at a torturously slow pace, while she tried to rehearse her lines without showing that she was rehearsing any lines, all the while feeling warm sweat trickling down her shirt, her head swimming with all the questions that she could not ask when –

"Miss Lewis? Miss Darcy Lewis? Is that you? What on Earth are you doing down here?"

She recognized the voice before she could place the face. Both were as smarmy and condescending.

Thomas Rhode, SHIELD agent, level 5, assistant administrator to the Alien Technology Control branch. And the worst human being you would probably ever meet.

"Tickler," she muttered under her breath.

No one ever spoke of him as Thomas, or Rhode, or Tom. He was known to everyone as the Tickler, because he had this funny way of walking and holding himself, almost as if he were constantly trying to balance a pole between his legs which gave the impression that he was being tickled. There was a double pun in there somewhere.

He was the only one who, presumably, had no idea of the jokes made at his expense. If he had, he made no show of it, because he believed himself far too important to worry about what people thought of his legs.

Tickler was all clipped politeness and professionalism, but behind his faux mannerisms, she knew he had _never_ accepted her being there to begin with. He was a born and bred pedant and he refused to swallow the fact that someone as incompetent and low-profile as Darcy could have any kind of influence over people like Erik Selvig and Jane Foster. Her presence there had been someone's absurd whim. He'd been quite pleased with her departure and immediate removal from Loki's presence.

Deep down, he was jealous of her, because he was a naturally unpleasant, self-involved, mean-spirited man whom everyone found contemptible, despite his intellectual prowess and strong work ethics and he was, for this reason, neglected and left aside, only to be acknowledged for his efficiency when protocol required it, whereas this simple girl with too much time on her hands and no proper degree of any kind was greeted kindly everywhere she went just because she cracked a few jokes and brought in a bag of bagels every morning.

It was abysmally unfair.

"Hello to you too, Tic-Rhode. You sound surprised to see me," she said in a casual voice, trying not to seem bothered by the fact that he was blocking her way.

"I am, Miss Lewis. I didn't think I would see you around here anymore. Are you visiting?" Rhode asked indifferently, hoping he wouldn't have to be the one to escort her out. "I'm afraid Miss Foster is out of town."

"I'm not here to see Jane, although she's a terrific lady. I'm here for your main attraction," she replied, eyeing the figures approaching behind him.

Rhode refrained from frowning. He had never found her humour endearing or particularly funny.

"So you are visiting, then?" he concluded, trying to smile. "Visiting Loki? Is that even allowed?"

"No, no...and no," she answered, counting off his questions on her fingers. "I'm here to work."

Rhode's 'I-beg-your-pardon' face was priceless. She enjoyed it quite a bit.

"Come again?" he blurted out.

"I guess they couldn't do without me anymore. It happens all the time. My entire pop-sociology class went haywire in my absence."

Rhode couldn't help the frowning any more. She had such an irritating way of beating around the bush before she made her point.

"I'm afraid you were severely misinformed, Miss Lewis. _I_ am the one in charge of Laufeyson now. And unless you have managed to attain the necessary skills and qualifications over night-"

"_You_ are in charge of Loki now?" she interrupted him amused. "You mean he's changed two different guys in three weeks? You must've really pissed him off."

Rhode, who was growing increasingly impatient, turned away from her in order not to give her the satisfaction of having gotten to him.

It was at this moment that the guards stopped in front of him. They were holding Loki by the arms even though the human-god was handcuffed with a particularly painful looking device. One of the guards coughed awkwardly.

Rhode was evidently pleased upon seeing what Darcy called 'the main attraction'. It reassured him that the girl was only making up stories to account for the fact that she was there, but that he still had authority over her.

"Oh, right. I'd nearly forgotten. Was the walk satisfactory then?" he asked the human-god, smiling stupidly, doing his best to ignore Darcy completely.

Loki raised an eyebrow and grimaced in contempt. He never deigned to speak with this man unless there was an emergency and he wouldn't start now.

"Good then, I think we should return promptly. Shall we?" he asked, not waiting for the answer that would not come.

Darcy meanwhile had stopped taking notice of Rhode and was staring at Loki intently. She wanted to take this chance and inspect him thoroughly, to see what had changed and what had not and make the necessary mental observations on what she was supposed to say.

His hair had grown a bit longer, he was more tautly built and his usual pallor was tainted with a soft pink hue and two large blue veins bulging out of his forehead. His mutation had been accelerated due to the forced intravenous feeding. He certainly looked healthier and the black circles under his eyes were smaller, but there was still that soft tremor in his limbs and the feebleness of a man who was ill and whose body was fighting its cure. An element of stubbornness had remained written plainly across his face, but unlike the kind she had witnessed two months ago, this obstinacy was harbouring a different sort of conflict; he seemed to have acknowledged the fact that he was now considerably human, but he needed to give himself the illusion that he could still oppose it somehow, that at one point the tables would turn and someone from above would restore him. As if this were as transitory and meaningless a stage as Thor's when he had been stripped of his powers. And since he believed himself to be far more capable than his brother, magic-wise, he also believed that he would regain control of himself soon. His way of reasoning was something along the lines: Yes, I might be human now, but not for long. I will be god again soon and this state will be remembered only as another strange experiment in the string of many I have survived in the past.

When Loki's electrical eye turned towards hers as if to attest her thoughts, she quickly looked away, worried that he might see how insecure and unready she was in that moment. She was not being shy or awkward, she rarely exhibited such emotions, even in the company of strangers, but she felt that by looking him in the eye now she would, in a way, confirm the new-found power she had over him. He was indirectly indebted to her for having come and the fact that the ball was in her court terrified her. What had seemed easy a few minutes ago when they had first seen each other in the green house from afar was now rendered impossible face to face.

Mistaking her reluctance for something completely different Loki lowered his forehead and his expression turned in on itself, as if he'd just swallowed his own humiliation and it tasted bitter.

Rhode had taken notice of this small uneasy exchange, or rather non-exchange, between the two and he was staring at them in disconcertment. Part of him felt pleasure in knowing that, unlike everyone else there, Loki did _not_ look kindly on Darcy, nor was he endeared by her dysfunctional behaviour. The human-god would surely not talk to her either, he comforted himself.

But at the same time, he was startled by this spurious communication that was taking place between them, expressed only through looks. He hadn't seen these emotions on Loki's face before; shame, humiliation, hurt pride, insecurity. Or at least he thought he hadn't.

In reality, Loki was constantly tormented by these feelings, particularly shame. But they only managed to come out when someone incited them to an externalization. It didn't have to be Darcy, but circumstances had made it that she, among few, could enable certain associations in his mind, relating to this new and overbearing humanity.

Darcy herself felt the sudden urge to get away or shrink into herself. Confronted with this reality head-on, she had the impulse to retreat. She didn't want to fight Rhode, after all. He was right. She didn't have any skills or qualifications. What did they even hope to achieve by letting her stay? But she had thought of this before. It would be redundant to go over the arguments again. Erik had made it clear she would have to catch up in a big way. He'd also made it clear that it hadn't been his call or SHIELD's. But then, it was back to square one; Loki had made the call and he was going to resent her for it and she could do nothing to prevent it.

Ironically, it was Rhode who solved their predicament.

His loud and unexpected expletive made them both start.

"Goddamn it! I have to find this out in a _text_ _message_? Will no one have the decency to tell me before they go ahead and change _everything_? Of course, Rhode is always the last to know! They take me for an idiot!" he burst out in vexation staring down at his cell phone.

Darcy almost jumped out of her skin. The Tickler had a nasty temper.

"What happened?" she asked, trying to play dumb which only annoyed him more.

"Oh, you can save it, Lewis! Why didn't you tell me outright?"

"I was going to, but I didn't mean to –"

"You were going to, were you? Before or after I'd already humiliated myself?" he shrieked, unhinged.

"I'm so-"

"Here!" he snapped, pushing the files he'd been carrying into her arms. "Knock yourself out. Clearly, this branch is headed for disaster and I have better things to do."

With that, he threw one more disdainful look her way and walked out of the green house with a pronounced strut, the same strut that had originated his humorous appellative.

Darcy couldn't believe he had just left her like that and taken off.

"Tickler's off his meds again," she blurted out without thinking. One of the guards started snickering.

Darcy chuckled uneasily and forced herself to look up from the files she was currently flipping through nervously. She was perusing them in vain; she couldn't even read the titles.

"I – we (staring at Loki's forehead) – we should just go, unless you would like to spend some more time here," she said clumsily. "In the green house."

Loki shook his head.

"Good choice!" she exclaimed, more cheerily than intended, "this place bums me out. Let's just take you to your room."

The guards followed her obediently down the corridor while she fished through her bag for the entrance badges she had stuffed inside. They were a comical sight seen from afar; a pair of stiff men in dark suits, carrying a tall, black-haired, straight-faced prisoner, being led by a scrawny, dishevelled-looking young girl with a blue iPod sticking out of her left pocket and vintage sunglasses perched on top of her head.

"It's really counter-productive when they give you five keys for every quarter," she commented to no one in particular. "I tend to misplace them."

She could feel Loki's stare on her back. Everyone was being so silent. There was only the dull sound of footsteps and the occasional zipper.

"So when do you guys get off?" she asked casually, giving two of the badges to hold to one of the guards.

They stared at her nonplussed. Then they shared a look.

Darcy put one of the badges around her neck and shoved another one in her back pocket.

"It must be the best part of your day."

When they just kept staring in confusion, she realized she hadn't quite clarified her previous statement.

"Work, when you get off _work_, that's what I meant," she quickly stated, taking the badges from their hands, blushing furiously.

"We can't answer that," one of them told her after a pause.

"Okay, I was just curious – but you enjoy working here?" she pressed on, fighting the silence that was threatening to submerge them again.

"Not really relevant," the same man answered.

"It must be at least a little bit relevant to _you_, though. Did you sign up or were you transferred from somewhere? Or was it a promotion?"

This time no one answered. She still refused to look in Loki's direction and it was becoming obvious.

"I'm thinking it was a transfer. It's the likeliest. You're probably some of the best in your field. I hear they don't bother with the rest – well, except me, I'm the special case. But there has to be at least one weak link in every powerful system, it's a universal law..." she trailed off, feeling stupid.

Thankfully, they had reached Loki's cell and she wouldn't have to resort to any more small talk.

The doors slid shut behind her and it gave her the impression that a curtain had been drawn on the world. They were perched up high on an empty stage, surrounded by darkness. Once again alone in another impersonal cell room, almost as stark as the one he had occupied before.

She darted towards the table where she dumped her messenger bag with a thump and started unloading all of her objects on the table, almost as if she were trying to find something to do to delay the inevitable confrontation.

She took out notebooks and pencils and ballpoint pens and an agenda, two cell phones, one given by SHIELD, another, her own, that had no reception down there and a small packet of gum.

The notebooks she placed in a neat pile, after which she started sorting the ballpoint pens after colour and length. Then she added the pencils on top of them. She straightened them until the writing utensils were perfectly parallel. Then she moved on to her agenda.

During this transparent attempt at procrastination, she built an entire fort around her seat, without noticing that Loki was watching her with the foulest glare he could muster.

It wasn't enough that she had humiliated him but minutes ago, she had to create the illusion that she was occupied just so she could avoid him. He could not stand this brand of false humility. Was she pretending to be nervous or did she really just want to run out of that room?

Maybe she did want to leave.

Because maybe in the hours spent alone she had realized how miserable she had really been. How she had never been able to match him. How she had embarrassed herself pointlessly by admitting to made-up feelings. Maybe she had come to terms with the fact that she had only said she cared to detach herself from the others who mistreated him.

Still, he knew she was as unaware as the next person. She probably believed she cared very much, she probably reasoned with herself all the time that her behaviour was valid, that she was being honest with herself. In fact, he was certain she had those views. You build your personal demagogy and you stick with it until it becomes a reality.

He had been struck with her confession at the time, not because it was uncommon to him, but because it came up so irrationally and inconsequently.

He knew the pattern; in most cases, people cared about others because they cared about themselves. There was only a small part that ever cared even though it was not to their advantage.

He had been momentarily at a loss because he had not known for a certainty in which category to place her. Because the entire issue had been about him and he had always been ill-equipped in matters of his own person. And this uncertainty had brought on a stream of thoughts that he could not comprehend and make clear, regarding this second category, the one that managed to steer clear of his logic.

He was still dangling Darcy in the air somewhere between the first and the second category and the only reason he wasn't placing her in the first was because the people in the second category were most definitely insane and Darcy herself was not particularly well.

She was not quite insane yet, but she would get there. Insanity to him was not the impossibility to be rational, but rather, the _refusal_ to be rational. The reasons for this refusal were varied; pride, pleasure, illusion, delusion, romanticism, idealism, narcissism. The list went on. He surmised Darcy would probably refuse rationality out of pleasure. It tickled her fancy to be abused, she was partial to being shamed and taken advantage of. She was attracted to people she shouldn't be attracted to. That sort of thing.

But, on the other hand, a lot of people, especially those in their youth, reacted this way for an undetermined period of time. And then they stopped once they were confronted with their natural interest. They would at length control their own behaviour when they realized that it was not really helping them, that this self-inflicted flagellation was not bringing them that personal satisfaction or acknowledgement they were seeking. Eventually, they grew tired of it. Eventually, they stopped believing their own lies, because it was counter-effective. Eventually, they admitted the truth. But they did not think much about it. They moved on. Eventually, _she_ would admit the truth. Eventually, _she_ would move on. That would place her in the first category.

And yet, she had come. And she seemed nervous and unhappy. She did not want to be there. But there was also a twisted sort of anticipation. He had seen it in her eyes when he had looked down at her from above. There had been an unmistakable glint of something new.

So then, was she lying to herself or was she verging on masochism?

He sighed to himself. This is what he had been reduced to. Analyzing some twenty-something-year old. He could just coax it out of her instead, couldn't he?

But what then? He'd chase her away again only to call her back?

He was certain she had no idea why he _had_ called her back. She probably thought it was some weakness of his, some indefinable affinity he had for her. It probably scared and pleased her at the same time, he thought, rolling his eyes. It must be some thrill for her to imagine that he would want something from her.

But then she was acting so shy and nervous, as if someone would come and ask her to leave any moment, as if she couldn't wait to burst out that door herself. And there was worry etched on her face, the kind that kept people up at night, tormenting them with some meaningless earthly dilemma they could not surpass. There was something eating away at her core.

He sighed once more. Darcy Lewis was still midair, condemned to remain somewhere in between until she stopped whatever fantasy she was playing and fell into place. (first or second category?)

Darcy meanwhile, was writing aimlessly in her agenda.

_How to approach him. How to approach him. How to approach him._

_This is so stupid. It's nothing. It's only been three weeks. You're stupid._

_Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid. _

_You'll never get a real job. Forget adulthood._

_You're sad. Really sad. Just tell him already. Just tell him you know he knows. Tell him it's not what he thinks. Tell him you know the reasons. Tell him. Tell him. Come oooon! Lift your head. Come on. _

_Darcy, stop writing. Dude, stop writing. Stop it. Stop. Raise your head. _

She threw the agenda aside and lunged for one of the cell phones, but in her haste it slipped off the table and landed on the floor with a click.

"Ouch," she muttered to herself, keeping her eyes on the white tiles even though she felt another pair glued to her figure.

She scrambled down to get the phone.

And then she stopped.

She stopped moving and waited there, crouched under the table.

Sure, it was the most idiotic thing she had done in her life. And she was being nothing short of a complete moron. But as a kid, hiding under the table had been a solid plan. And she was still that kid.

She didn't care who saw her. Or judged her. She had the right to...get away.

The cameras couldn't see the look on her face, at least.

_Okay, I will sit here for another minute and they will fire me. _

Loki, at first, assumed she had hurt herself or had become ill and he was almost going to rise from his bed to check, but he then noticed she was moving. But she was not getting up. She was just standing there.

He stared in disbelief.

Was she seriously hiding under the table? There was no way a human being could do something so ridiculous, so absurd, so plain stupid.

They might have been the inferior race, but they would have to be the most spineless creatures in the universe to resort to such behaviour.

There was no doubt about it; there was not a shred of pride or dignity left in her.

Loki was at a loss for words.

He tried in vain to come up with something to say.

There was nothing in this world or the other that could explain or excuse this...girl.

Maybe she really was insane.

The phone that Darcy was currently holding under the table started ringing. She almost jumped. It was her personal phone. She was so surprised to see that it could get incoming calls that she dropped it and it slipped on the floor further away from her.

She would have to leave her hideout to retrieve it.

She wasn't quite sure about that, though.

Unfortunately, the ringtone she had forgotten to change burst out of the tiny phone.

_Sittin' here eatin' my heart out waitin'  
>Waitin' for some lover to call<em>

Oh, no.

_Dialed about a thousand numbers lately  
>Almost rang the phone off the wall<em>

No, no, no, no, no.

_Lookin' for some hot stuff baby this evenin'  
>I need some hot stuff baby tonight<br>I want some hot stuff baby this evenin'  
>Gotta have some hot stuff<br>Gotta have some lovin' tonight_

Darcy shut her eyes in mortification. Donna Summer's disco beats had never been less welcome.

Loki opened his mouth in shock. He had never heard this kind of music before. It was not a very smooth introduction to disco.

And when he heard the lyrics he wasn't quite sure what to think anymore. Was this a love song? No. It was too brash and no one spoke in innuendos about love. Was humans singing about intercourse the norm? Was this considered art? And did women belt out their desires in song as if it were the most natural thing to do?

It was so strange. But that beat was...oddly invigorating. It had an eerily alluring cadence.

Then it dawned on him that he was listening to this absurdity while Darcy was hiding under the table, unable to reach the phone that was making these noises, and he was being held captive in one of Earth's most state-of-the-art facilities.

Loki reckoned that not even Nifleheim could conjure such a monstrously ridiculous punishment.

And then something peculiar happened. There was a gurgling in his stomach. It travelled to his throat.

Unawares, he started chuckling softly, until it turned into actual laughter.

It was short-lived and quiet, but it was genuine.

Loki had laughed.

Darcy thought at first that she was hearing things. But when his laughter became audible, she was not only taken aback, but partially relieved to know he was not as angry and malcontent as she had suspected.

That gave her the courage to move forward and grab her phone.

She quickly put an end to _Hot Stuff_ and came out of her hiding.

"How in the world –" he started when he saw her shamefully immerge from underneath.

"No!" she interrupted him, lifting a finger. "No, I need to tell you some things before you start judging me. I need to tell you why I came."

But as she saw Loki's face, on which the remnants of laughter were still visible, she burst into laughter herself.

It started with a snigger. She placed a hand over her mouth to stop it, but it came out of her just as it had come out of Loki.

They were both laughing (she almost hysterically) at the madness, the sheer madness of putting them, two people so utterly different, in the same room.

What deranged mind had concocted such a possibility, that she and he should ever be placed in each other's proximity?

Loki had stopped laughing a long time ago, but Darcy was still going at it, slightly unhinged.

She sat down and buried her face in her hands.

He could see her shoulders shaking from laughter from time to time. She settled down, eventually.

"Erik told me I have to read up on you until my head drops," she muttered, keeping her face hidden.

"I guess they're thinking I'll catch up in no time. SHIELD's super-standards will rub off on me _somehow_," she continued, resting her chin in her hand.

Loki was once again in a situation where he had no actual response.

"Do you resent me?" she asked, finally braving his eyes. She didn't wait for him to answer.

"I know. I know you think I think you called me here because you prefer my company. But I know that's bullshit. I mean I know it's mostly habit, I would never delude myself into thinking otherwise. Not that delusion implies that I, erm, that I'd like it to be a personal preference. And I know you only asked for me because those other guys were giving you a hard time, what with being assholes and such. I mean Tickler's bad mood is contagious. He's the worst. But maybe I'm the worst too. Hell, I'm no better than him. But I know I'm still more bearable, so I can see why you'd rather put up with me. So I want you to know you shouldn't resent me, because there is no possible universe where I would have the upperhand...well, except maybe in the Doctor Who one, because I would most definitely be River Song. But in any other circumstances, I don't have _any_ sort of leverage. I get that you would rather I sat here and talked random crap rather than have the world's smuggest bastards talk sense into you. Or trying to, anyway, cuz I bet they got nowhere."

She exhaled loudly.

That had been quite the monologue. But at least she had gotten it out.

For one, she knew Loki hadn't expected her to guess his thinking pattern, because she saw the fleeting look of surprise that crossed his face. Then again, he might have just been confused about the name River Song.

Loki had indeed been wrong in his assumption that she would romanticize the entire ordeal, but he had been right at the same time, even though he did not know it.

Deep down, there was a part of Darcy that was hoping against her will, her judgement, her dignity, her intellect and everything that came with, that he would at least find a way to partially contradict her. To let her know he did prefer her company.

She knew that part of her had to stay buried, if not entirely entombed.

Loki cast his eyes downward, wondering if she really meant what she had said. What if she still expected something of him? What if she didn't really believe that was the only reason?

She had been right; he had only asked for her because everyone else was (seemed) worse. The agents he had had to listen to were two uncomplicated drones that had mastered a very weak strategy of handling a "prisoner", saying only what they were supposed to say and nothing else, trying to inspire an air of mystery and knowledge that they did not possess, giving the illusion that they were aiming towards a higher purpose, a purpose that Loki would not be able to understand as he was only one man in the larger-than-life web of SHIELD's oeuvre.

Just as Darcy had predicted, they had tried to school him into the ways of Earth as well as extract information about Asgard and his magic, the former being their arrogant way of assuming he was an uncivilized neanderthal and the latter, their concession that his knowledge could be a benefit to SHIELD. Their own obedient demigod. It had a ring to it.

Not only were they boring and uninteresting, but they were also bent on "figuring him out". That is what drove them the most. Trying to prove that the so-called puzzle that was the former God of Mischief was nothing more than an above-average intelligence, a psychological construct that could be made to collapse at any moment. And that they could easily assert their power over him.

Pathetic.

At least Darcy wanted to "solve" him for herself and herself only. She might have been selfish, but she was far more well-intentioned; even if she wanted to be the one to untangle the thread of the dark, mysterious, brooding human-god, she was far more innocent than those barbarians who were delving into his mind only to please SHIELD's ego.

He did not worry about Darcy becoming like them; she was as inefficient and as unpredictable as a child.

Even so, what if she was bluffing? What if she had said these things only to make sure he wouldn't suspect that she actually thought there was more to it?

He frowned. Why did he even care if she did think more of it? What was this pressing concern about? That she might think he had asked for her because...? Why would he worry about that? He should not be bothered if she had made up her own scenario.

It was her own undoing, not his. Hadn't he for centuries watched people trying to emulate the gods, creating realities, forcing them into their minds, trapping themselves into unsustainable dreams? Many times, his job was done for him. Humans did not need tricking. You just had to watch them do it themselves.

They could not bear not being tricked.

And reason? Reason was just another trick. Far more subtle, but just as effective. The true and pure reasoning lay with the gods.

So maybe the second category was right to refuse it. Maybe Darcy was right.

If she really wanted to believe nonsense, why not let her?

"Oh yeah and I'm not just saying that," she added as an after-thought. "I really mean it. Really. I don't want you to think that deep down I'm secretly jumping up and down giddily because I've got a human-god under my thumb. That...was a stupid image, but you get the picture. I don't want you to think that I'm just telling you what you want to hear. You know that's not my forté."

_And I'm not one of those girls, _she told herself. _I'm not. I..._

Loki rubbed his face tiredly. How had she read his mind again? Was he becoming so transparent? So easy to read?

Well, no, it was a normal reaction, wasn't it? To doubt someone's intentions. She knew how suspicious he was.

But then, if she was telling him that she was not romanticizing it, that she was aware of the conditions inherent to their situation, then did she belong in the first category after all?

Was she really trying to detach herself or was she actually telling him what he wanted to hear?

What he wanted to hear was that...What he wanted to hear...

What he wanted...

He had no idea.

He was stupefied, but he had no idea. He had no idea what he wanted her to feel, or how he wanted her to react.

The idea hadn't occurred to him.

_No_, he told himself, _I don't want anything from her. She may believe whatever makes her sleep at night. _

But how could Darcy, _this_ Darcy, ever really be detached?

He shook his head. Of course she was lying. Of course she was romanticizing.

"So... what were you going to say?" she asked nervously, snapping him from his trance.

"What?" Loki asked, slightly dazed.

"Before. You started asking me something..."

"Oh, that. I was going to ask you how in the world you could listen to that," he replied, staring at her cell phone.

Darcy blinked.

"Oh. You meant – oh, you were talking about the song," she mumbled, feeling stupid.

"Yes. It was not exactly subtle."

"That's Donna Summer for you. She's a lovely lady though."

"She sings..._that_?"

"Yeah, pretty much. I occasionally dance on it when I'm alone. And no one can see me. Do you...do you like-"

"No," he interrupted quickly.

There was a heavy pause.

"Okay, this is pretty awkward. Maybe I shouldn't have said all of that. Maybe _now_ you'll resent me for real."

Loki rolled his eyes.

"I imagined you would start off with apologies and excuses. You've got no backbone. You cannot even handle the idea of having power. I shouldn't have expected anything else from someone who thinks I still _resent_ her," he replied, emphasizing on the word "resent" as if it was childish of her to think that of him. He was lying, of course, but that meant he was becoming more relaxed since he had established dominance over her again.

"Well, I kinda thought you might hold it against me, since...hang on, you would actually _want_ me to have power over you? Like in a dominant/submissive type of thing? That's...that's pretty creepy, dude. Like totally messed up."

Loki rolled his eyes in disdain.

"Who would ever submit to the likes of you?" Loki asked, bemused, clearly not understanding the concept of a dominant/submissive relationship. "Hypotheses need to have _some_ grounds in reality. And since you would never be able to have or exert that power, there is no point discussing it."

"Wait a minute, that doesn't make sense –"

"Are you just going to have an argument with yourself or are you going to make yourself useful?" he asked, growing tired of the subject.

"Neither. I'm having an argument with you. You can't just ignore the fact that you said you want –"

"First of all, I said nothing of the like, you just put words in my mouth -"

"I was reading between the lines," Darcy argued innocently.

"And that is what you came up with? Remind me never to try any more complex ideas with you in the future. You might surpass yourself and arrive at even greater idiocy."

"Deflect all you want, but I know what you said."

"Oh, good, we're back to _that. _It's like you were never gone."

Darcy tilted her head back pensively.

"Well, who knows? Maybe they put you to sleep a really long time and you just dreamt that I had left," she told him in what was meant to be a conspiratory voice.

"Fascinating. Can I take my word back and send you out of here?"

She almost smiled.

"They've already wasted five badges on my face, so unlikely."

"I wonder if there's something you _can't_ make a joke about," Loki muttered to himself.

"Abortion and suicide. And...maybe Pee-Wee Herman. He was my hero growing up," Darcy replied promptly.

Loki grimaced. "Do I even _want_ to know?"

Darcy smiled fully this time.

"No. It's probably best that you don't."


End file.
